Darkness of the Heart
by Misgel
Summary: Months have past since the battle against MECH. Jack is torn between his loyalty to his friends and his bond with Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons. As the Civil War escalates, MECH is plotting revenge. Jack must face the them head-on to save his friends and prevent the world from falling into chaos. But will he be fighting for the Autobots, or the Decepticons?
1. Alone

**As promised, the next installment of Darkness! First off, a huge thanks to my friend Aethelgythe** **for betaing this and thank you Karrashi for the cover!**

 **For those that are new, I highly recommend reading** ** _Darkness of the Soul,_** **first. But I never read anything in order so go ahead if you must.**

 **I plan to update weekly updates, however, I have a hectic schedule right now so there may a chance I fail to do so.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy what I have in store.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing from Hasbro, and spoilers for the Transformers: Prime, but I assumed if you are here, you have already watched it**

 **Warnings: rated M for heavy angst, graphic violence, and scenes of torture. Yep, this is going to be an edgy one.**

* * *

It was cold. Frost formed a thick layer on the window, making it almost impossible to look out to the world beyond. Not that there was much to see. A white, rolling landscape stretched as far as the eye could see. It was interrupted by sheer cliffs and jagged walls, making it all the more difficult to navigate in. And so all the more difficult to be located. The peaks of the mountains cut into the heavy cloud cover that spread across the sky. Snow drifted down in agonizing slowness, adding to the ever-growing blanket across the hard, frigid ground.

It was certainly colder than the last location. The man had been through worse.

Even though there was no impressive view, he stared out the window, lost in thought. Feet shoulder-length apart, arms behind his back, hands clenched in tight fists.

 _Months_ of dedicating his work into a single operation, only to be blown away in a single night. All those resources, all that security, all those _men_ —gone. It filled him with enough fury that his heated blood combated with the frigid air around him.

He underestimated his enemy. He underestimated NEST. He underestimated Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox.

Obviously, for someone so young and inexperienced, he knew how to effectively lead the men under his command—and how to properly deploy the arsenal given to him. The robots were an unexpected variable. He wasn't aware the US military was in possession of so many. He wasn't aware of their capability.

They had leveled an entire compound—full of trained, skilled soldiers, and an arsenal of the most advanced technology in the world—in a single night. Now he was forced to move the remains of his forces to the other side of the planet. They could avoid detection in this area, for a time. Long enough to complete the project, at least.

MECH would live on. And Silas would see its mission succeed.

A world where the people were not pawns of a government that did not care, but ruled by machines. Flesh would not wasted on the battlefield. A world, where _they_ fought instead.

Suddenly there was a respectful knock at the door.

"Enter," the commander barked, without turning.

There was a squeak of hinges as the door swung open, followed by footsteps. Light, tentative.

"Silas, sir," the newcomer saluted.

The ex-Navy SEAL soldier already knew who it was, but he confirmed it by looking over his shoulder. The guest wore khaki trousers over polished shoes, and a buttoned up, pale blue dress shirt. He almost looked like he was ready to walk into a meeting, if the white, pristine lab coat did not ruin the illusion.

The man may have been lean and broad-shouldered, but Silas was well aware he was no fighter. Instead, his calloused hands were steady as a rock and deft fingers moved with unmatched precision. The salt-and-pepper, short-cropped hair and crow's feet spreading from his eyes told he had been in his profession for a long time, and had decades of experience to sharpen those skills.

Michael DiBiase, Silas believed. A surgeon before a freedom fighter. The MECH leader made sure to know the names and ranks and professions of each and every one of his men. They had vowed to fight and die for his cause, after all. Even though he was well aware some had less noble intentions than others. Fortunately, DiBiase was not one of these men. The doctor knew only to bother him if it was important. _Very_ important.

"What is it?" Silas asked, calmly but still full of authority.

"I have the results from the lab work, sir," DiBiase reported.

It took a few moments for the militiaman to realize to what he was referring. Oh, that. He had almost forgotten about it. He had been quite busy.

"And?" Silas inquired, finally turning to face his guest. He was greeted with an outstretched manila folder.

"We found something quite intriguing."

Silas quirked a curious eyebrow, but unfolded his arms and tentatively took the folder. He opened it up, flipping through the ink-covered white papers inside. As leader of MECH, an organization built by state-of-the-art technology from the world's greatest minds, Silas wanted to call himself a man of science. But biology was not one of his strong suits.

Still, he humored the surgeon as he looked at a picture on the first page. It was just a bunch of red circles—red blood cells. At least he thought. Some of the circles looked funny, and the picture was speckled with dots.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Silas asked.

"Red blood cells," DiBiase answered. " _Infected_ red blood cells."

"Infected with what?"

There was a pause and the doctor shifted his weight. His next words were slow, careful. "I… do not know, sir."

Silas's eyebrows knotted ever so slightly. That was not what he wanted to hear. Likely why DiBiase looked so nervous. Regardless of position, everyone knew the consequences of failing their leader. However, instead of showing his temper, the MECH leader kept a calm and patient tone.

"Some new disease?" he guessed. Silas thought about it. "Alien?"

"We're still researching that. But from our understanding, the infection doesn't seem organic. We were able to isolate some of the material from the erythrocytes. The molecules appear to be in some sort of lattice structure—similar to crystalline materials." At his leader's hard stare, DiBiase repeated himself in simpler terms, "It… looks like a crystal, impeded in the blood. Probably why it hasn't been terminated by the defense system's leukocytes—er, white blood cells."

The commander stared down at the picture, analyzing what he had been told. The old war veteran found himself looking back on his high school lectures. An inorganic substance that invaded cells. That sounded like a virus. An alien virus, then? But he never heard of a virus being a crystal.

"Is that all?" Silas pressed, trying not to make his disappointment known. He had gathered the greatest talents in the world, and this was all there was to show for it?

"Well—" DiBiase shifted his weight again. "There is another anomaly about the infection." The MECH leader glanced up at him without moving his head. "The crystals… they share the same lattice structure we studied at the former site."

It took a full minute for Silas to digest what the man just said. He thought old age—and years of war—had finally ruined his hearing. Then—

"You're saying—"

"Yes, sir."

No, impossible. He stared back down at the picture in his hands. Crystals, impeded in _human_ blood. Crystals, that weren't from this planet.

"That much energon exposure would _kill_ him," Silas realized. Not even his scientists could be exposed to it more than a few minutes, without facing the consequences of it.

"It would," DiBiase agreed. "But… it doesn't seem to be degrading the host's blood cells."

Finally Silas narrowed his eyes into a confused squint. "How is that possible?"

"I… do not know."

Very few men had said that to the terrorist's face and lived. Fewer had said it more than once in the same conversation. However, seeing DiBiase's perplexed expression—and something else in his eyes—he realized killing an incompetent fool would not solve this mystery. Especially at the doctor's next words.

"I would need another sample to investigate it further," the surgeon explained, quickly offering a solution. Then suddenly an odd, twisted look crossed his face. He opened his mouth, as if to continue, but no sound came out. He closed it when that look disappeared.

Silas cared less about the strange event. The gears in his head were already turning, already plotting out the next course of action in the war. He doubted he was being played, men valued their lives too much and DiBiase was not the type to fool another. His profession as a surgeon prevented him from lying.

He needed a sample.

He needed that _brat_.

Silas glanced down, looking at the name in bold font in capital letters, jumping from the pale paper.

 **DARBY, JACKSON.**

A wide, satisfied grin spread across the man's face. Perhaps the boy could actually contribute to MECH's mission. Perhaps, he could be the link between man and machine that Silas had been looking for, for _years_.

Maybe, the key to the completion of Project Chimera.

* * *

Jack woke up alone. He always woke up alone.

His phone did not ring impatiently, with that cool, but comforting voice that would fill the line. There was no energetic revving of an engine or urgent blaring of a horn. The teenager always woke up to silence.

No deep, gravelly voice would greet him. No cold, but impossibly gentle touch. No possessive, protective warmth.

The boy always a pang of something in his heart, and he did not know why.

Jack reluctantly opened his eyes to see bright, late morning light filtering into his room. Like always, he had the urge to drift back to sleep, but he knew it was futile. Those restless thoughts immediately stirred to life, the same ones that he battled every night.

The teenager turned over in his bed, hugging the blankets over him. He was greeted with his alarm clock, complete with the exact time and the day's date. His stomach twisted. It was the one day of the year that always filled him with eager excitement and heavy dread. When—

Jack immediately shoved down the thought. No, he needed to move on. Trying to distract himself from the morbid thoughts, he lifted himself up into a sitting position. With a yawn, he spread his arms out in a languid stretch, feeling stiff muscles pull taut and the bones of his shoulders popping into place. The teenager reached out for his laptop, opening it up and resting it on his thighs.

Sure enough, his social media was filled with messages. Jack took the time to reply to every one of them, especially to the names he recognized the most.

 ** _Are you still up for today?_** Miko asked.

 ** _I'll see you later!_** Raf cheered.

Still, Jack felt that sting again, when he failed to see any of the short, crisp messages that used to greet him. When he failed to hear that reassuring voice.

The teenager quickly shut the laptop and moved out of bed. It didn't take him long to get ready, washing away the sweat that had accumulated over the night. Sure enough, he stepped up to the foggy mirror, only to see a dull reflection of himself.

Jack knew he'd lost weight. His once lean torso had turned skinny but thankfully it was not horribly noticeable. His skin was turning pale, despite the desert sun that burned constantly outside. Dark bags were under his eyes, that he didn't know how to hide them.

The teenager spent most of his nights chasing sleep. He couldn't relax in the dark anymore, because every time the light was taken away, he would find himself in that horrible place. Where endless tunnels went on and on and on, with no hope of the light. Claustrophobia would seize him in a vice grip.

When he did manage to settle in bed, it would take hours for exhaustion to set in. He would find himself trapped in a cycle of depression, thinking of the same dark thoughts over and over and over. His sleep offered no escape.

Jack didn't have pleasant dreams anymore. They were always nightmares. Where a deep, powerful darkness would consume him, suffocate him. Where he saw the burning, ruined, charred remains of a once great and proud city. There was a sadistic laugh, that sounded louder whenever he screamed. Sounded louder whenever _she_ was dragged away from him.

Sometimes Jack would wake up in a cold sweat, or gasping for air. Sometimes he would wake up to his mother's face, summoned by his terrified screams.

Only _he_ could make the awful nightmares go away.

That dark, powerful presence that would fill his mind, shoving away his thoughts and emotions and dreams. Until there was nothing left but an empty, blissful void.

Jack's hand curled into a fist. Part of him hated it, hated _him._ Part of him yearned for the familiar figure to return. Even now, the boy felt the pull in his heart, his soul, towards the one he wanted to run away from, but could not escape. The one he could _never_ escape. A bond of blood, that could never be broken. All thanks to the substance that was supposed to destroy him, and almost did, but instead sunk into its new host.

As the boy slipped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a sweater, he wondered how his life came to this. A matter of years ago, his biggest concern was his grades in school. Then it only took a single moment, on a single day, delivered by cold words, that tore apart his simple life. He was so lost in his self-pity, he didn't even notice the bike—didn't notice _her_ —until she crashed into him. Then the next thing he knew, Jack came face-to-face with _him_. He found himself at the monster's mercy.

And this is what it had come to. Jack was alone. His friends were gone. The Autobots were gone.

His newfound family was taken away from him, because they had sacrificed everything to save him, not from _his_ clutches, but ones that made a mockery of everything he believed in.

MECH. A terrorist organization hell-bent on destroying government and its society, just so they could built it up in their own image of a "New World Order." They wanted to use _them—_ his friends—to do it, not even caring of the destruction it would cause. Of how many innocents lives would be taken.

It only made Jack feel so much worse, the moment he realized that the Autobots' efforts were all for nothing.

Silas escaped. MECH was still out there. No doubt plotting another scheme.

Jack swallowed. It was all his fault. Silas had captured _him,_ just because he knew the boy had access to Cybertronian technology.

It felt like that night, the night when United States forces had stormed the paramilitary base, had happened only a moment ago. Jack still saw the details clear as day, as _she_ came for him— _rescued_ him. However, looking at the date, he confirmed what he already knew.

Had it already been three months?

It was weird how quickly things continued on after the Autobots left to negotiate with the US government, in order to prevent an intergalactic incident. School went on as usual, work was the same, and Jack blended into the background of people. It was almost like how it was before, when the boy had just moved to the small desert town, before he met the Autobots. The only difference this time, was that he still had Miko and Raf.

They tried their best to stay positive. Miko still listened her Bulgarian shriek metal and Raf still meddled with his laptop. The teenager still hung out, to talk and laugh. Sometimes they slipped, bringing up the topic, and sure enough, it immediately filled the air with a heavy, uncomfortable silence. Jack noticed they still eyed the pick-up loop whenever they stepped out of school, looking for their rides, their guardians, their friends. Jack always did, too.

But now even the teens' time together was limited. School had ended for summer vacation, and without any entertainment, without the Autobots, without any life or death scenarios, another month had passed slowly.

Jack looked back at the glaring date on his clock.

Three months since he last saw and spoke to his best friend, his partner, Arcee. A month left of summer. And it was the day his father died.

Staff Sergeant Jonathan Darby. The Army Ranger was supposed to come home. He even made it back to base, and packed to make the long journey from the other side of the world. But then _they_ came.

The helicopter was escorted onto the landing deck, the humans none the wiser to what it really was. What its true mission was.

Now Jack was bonded to the one responsible—albeit indirectly—of his father's death.

The army brat felt the cycle of morbid thoughts quickly crawl to the surface of his mind. He almost fell back into it, almost forgot why this day was _supposed_ to be special. Then he saw it.

It was on his nightstand, just beside his digital clock. Either Jack was so tired from his rough sleep or he was so focused on the numbers, he had failed to see it. It was a little black box, just small enough to rest in his palm. It was cool and smooth in his hand, and the boy quickly realized the obsidian metal was not of earthly origin.

Cocking an eyebrow, he turned the perfectly symmetrical cube between his fingers. Allowing the pad of his thumb to brush against a switch. Immediately there was a distinct clicking sound, and Jack widened his eyes as the little black box changed shape. The top half folded away, and a pale, violet light shone forth.

The teenager's mouth gaped at the object nestled in the flexible mesh. It was a solid, smooth crystal, ending in two sharp points on either end, in a diamond-like shape. It was attached to a thin, flexible chain, composed of the same metal that made up the cube. It was a necklace, Jack realized, but it wasn't feminine or masculine. It was a simple, modest design, allowing the particular crystal to display its significance.

It was already tingling against the teenager's palm, and he felt his heart beat a little faster. Underneath the hard, cold surface, a violet hue pulsed from the center of the crystal. Emitting a dark, wicked, _evil_ power, yet Jack found his tight muscles uncoiling one-by-one. It was the very thing that flowed through his body, after all.

Dark energon.

The military brat realized what the odd trinket was supposed to be, and just as quickly realized how it got there. _He_ must have left it behind, from last night's visit. Jack honestly didn't expect _him_ to remember, or even care.

The teenager glanced at the date.

 **July 3** **rd**

His birthday.

Jack smiled.

"Thanks, Megatron."

After ten full minutes of considering, Jack threw the chain over his head and tucked the shard of dark energon underneath his shirt. Thankfully the cotton was thick enough to hide its pale glow and though it tingled against his skin, it was not distracting.

The army brat wasn't fooled by Megatron's gesture. The Decepticon leader was far from the type to present a gift just to spoil someone else. It was just another way to claim him, a physical incarnation of the warlord's possessiveness over his human pet. The fact it was _dark energon_ was no coincidence, either. It was a reminder, of the essence that linked them together.

The Blood of the Chaos Bringer, Megatron had absorbed it and it had practically brought him back from the dead. Jack still didn't know what had compelled the tyrant to share it with the teenaged boy. His body had initially rejected it. Tried to expel the poison that it was, but the dark energon had sunk into his blood, his heart, his soul.

Now Jack and Megatron shared a bond of blood, and he still didn't understand how it worked. He could only _feel_ a pull in the back of his mind, reaching out to another's. When he reached out, pressing against it tentatively, he felt a stir of emotions that weren't his. Sometimes they invaded his mind, overlapping with his own.

Jack mostly felt Megatron's anger or his annoyance, which he suspected was mostly directed at the Decepticon leader's incompetent subordinates. It put him in a bad mood more than once. Other times, the army brat would be lost in his own thoughts, only to feel a stab of pain burrow into his skin. He would either seethe or yell out, gripping at a wound that was not there. Every time it attracted odd stares, the boy wanted to sink into a hole.

That was nothing, compared to when Megatron decided to take a nap. Being practically an immortal being and a workaholic warlord, the Decepticon did not have the same sleep schedule as the teenager. Jack would go for days, sometimes weeks, without an incident. One moment he would be alert and wide awake, only for a powerful wave of exhaustion to wash over him. It was the only warning he got, before he sunk into unconsciousness.

Most of the time, he was in the safety of his own home, so there was no real harm. However, Megatron wasn't against sleeping in the middle of the day. Even if it was an inconvenient time for the human.

Once Jack was in the middle of a final exam when the room spun, and before he could fight it, he slumped out of his chair and onto the floor. He woke up in the nurse's office, the woman incredibly confused why he passed out for no apparent reason. The only conclusion she could come up with was that he was stressed and sleep-deprived. It still didn't save him from being the class joke for the remaining week. The other time was at work, when Jack had fallen unconscious in the meat freezer. If his co-worker, Kyle, hadn't found him and dragged him out, he would've been sent to the hospital for hypothermia.

It annoyed the teenager more than anything, and didn't hesitate to vent his grievances. Megatron only found it funny.

The teen could only hope there wouldn't be another incident as he stepped into the garage. Instantly his heart clenched at the sight before him. It was cold, dark. Empty. No familiar, curved figure met him. No purr of an engine greeted him.

Instead, there was only a collection of shelves pushed up against the wall, covered in forgotten tools and junk. Alongside the bicycle he had since middle school. No gorgeous paint, no sleek armor. Just bars of metal welded together and covered with rust, it was a sorry excuse of a two-wheeler. Raf had offered him a ride, but the other boy lived on the other side of town, and Jack felt guilty to make him go out of his way. He probably needed the exercise, anyway.

Even with that thought, the army brat was slow and reluctant as he walked it to the street. It took him far too long to make it to the center of town, as compared to the matter of minutes it took with _her_. His legs were pulsing with soreness by the time he pulled into the parking lot. He was _really_ out of shape.

Jack didn't want to do anything special for his birthday. All he wanted was a quiet afternoon with his friends, to be _normal,_ and not to worry about time, or nightmares, or deadly aliens.

Raf suggested pizza, and that was just fine with Jack. His friends had already gotten there first, even sitting at a table with an extra large (yes, extra large) cheese pizza between them. At least, that was the last image he saw before crushing arms wrapped around his torso.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"M-Miko, can't b-breathe," Jack wheezed.

The Japanese girl seemed oblivious as she released him, only to half-usher, half-drag him over, skipping all the way. She wasted no time, either. The teen hadn't even fully settled in the booth when a box covered in brightly-colored wrapping was tossed in front of him.

"Open it! Open it!" Miko demanded, practically bouncing on her seat like a restless toddler.

Jack only grinned with a huff, but did as he was told, only he didn't believe his eyes. It was the unreleased album of his favorite band.

"H-how did you possibly get this?" the teen gasped, flipping it over in his hands, like he was trying to find the tiniest flaw to prove it wasn't real. It wasn't supposed to come out for _weeks._

Miko shrugged. "I know people."

The military brat decided it was better not to know and moved on to Raf's present. It was that new video game he had been eying a year before its release, though he said he preferred to save the cash. Both gifts in his hand, Jack could only stare at them.

"So, what do you think?" Miko pressed at his lack of reaction. "You like them?"

"Y-Yeah, of course," the boy insisted, quickly blinking out of his trance. "It's just that… it's really thoughtful."

The crystal on his chest tingled.

"Well, _duh_ , that's what friends are for."

"Yeah," Raf agreed. "We wanted to do something special, since, you know… it's summer."

Instantly Jack's lightened spirit became heavy. It was true. They were already halfway through the summer. The Autobots were gone, and the teenager wondered how many days they had left with each other.

Miko's exchange program had ended that spring. The student had ranted, screamed, compromised, and pleaded, but her parents in Japan did not budge. They had become aware of their daughter's rambunctious behavior, especially her dropping grades and the number of detentions—and suspensions—she had received. They deemed that the American culture was having a bad influence on her, and refused to renew her application. Miko had convinced her parents to let her stay for the summer, but now it was a waiting game until they grew impatient.

Raf came forward with his own news. His mother found a job in Ohio, and rather than flying back and forth, she deemed to take her five children along with her. Including Raf. He, too, only had until the end of the summer, until his family made the long journey.

Away from Jasper, Nevada.

Leaving Jack alone.

The military brat forced a smile. "Yeah. Thank you, guys."

The first few minutes of the following conversation was tense, the heavy reminder on all of them. However, as time went by, moving from one random subject to the next, Jack became distracted again. Until—

"So, when do you think we'll see them again?" Miko asked, like it was a curious question.

"What do you mean?" Jack blinked.

"The 'Bots. We haven't seen or heard _anything_ from them in weeks. I mean, not so much as a _phone call._ It's _not_ normal. _"_

The teenaged boys frowned, and it was Jack that decided to explain patiently, "Miko, you know the deal. The 'Bots can't talk to us anymore."

"And why not? Because some stuck-up, know-it-all in a suit _told us so_?" The Japanese student crossed her arms defiantly, a gesture Jack knew all too well when the stubborn girl made up her mind. "They're _our_ friends!"

The army brat bit the inside of his cheek, trying to fight his own frustration. A year. A year they had spent with the Autobots, taking rides from school, hanging out at the base, and going on missions across the globe. They had originally taken the children in to defend them against the Decepticons, but soon they had gained a certain fondness for their charges.

The Autobots were more than just their guardians. They were their partners. Family.

And once again, Jack's family was taken away from him. When the Autobots first arrived to Earth, the U.S. government was terrified by the highly technologically advanced race that could easily destroy their country with a flip of a switch. The military had signed a peace treaty, even forming a coalition task force consisting of both humans and Cybertronians—NEST.

However, one of the agreements of the treaty was that the Autobots were forbidden from having contact with civilians. One reason was to prevent mass panic, and Jack was quite sure the government did not want their enemies to know about their newfound assets. And it was according to the treaty, Jack and his friends were civilians.

"I know, Miko, but, it's… it's way over our heads," he tried.

"But we have to do _something_!"

Jack gritted his teeth, feeling that suppressed anger bubble up his chest, but he knew it was unfair to unleash it on Miko. Still, he couldn't help raising his voice a little as he demanded, "What _can_ we do? We're in _high_ _school_."

"So?"

" _So_ there's nothing we can do."

Miko shook her head so hard that the boy thought it would fall off. "That's not true! We were with the 'Bots for a _year._ They can't just forget about us!"

The teenager swallowed, and the growing fury was quickly replaced with a much more painful emotion. Just a single phone call—or _something_ —to hear his guardian's voice would have been more than enough. However, the wish was cruelly ripped away as Raf spoke up, his voice small and tentative.

"I tried calling Bumblebee once, but… he didn't answer," the young boy confessed lowly.

"Bulkhead's dodging me, too," Miko replied, almost resentfully, like her friend was merely pettily ignoring her and not cut off from ever speaking to her again.

Jack didn't want to admit he had been so desperate once to try to contact Arcee, but only got the same result. But he couldn't.

"We can't talk to them anymore," the teen forced out, each word painful. Instantly his friends frowned with downcast gazes, eyes turning shiny in the incandescent light.

"I know," Raf murmured in a low whine, "it's just that…"

He trailed off, and Miko was the one that spoke the words all three of them were too afraid to say.

"I miss Bulkhead…" she whimpered.

Jack's heart twisted and it hurt to swallow the lump in his voice. Oh, how he missed Arcee. He missed going on rides, how effortlessly she would move, the speeds she could reach. He missed bickering with her, _talking_ with her. He missed his best friend.

Jack talked with _him_ , sure—sometimes hours at a time, even. But it wasn't the same. No one could replace his girl.

The teenager's stomach knotted and glanced at the remaining slices of pizza. His stomach churned at the grease covering the sticky cheese, and he lost the will to force himself to eat.

Jack had learned to eat without an appetite. Not only had the dark energon sunk into his body, but it was a heavy weight in his stomach. It was a long, unpleasant process. Jack could only eat a little at a time, but he tried to force himself to eat more and more. Sometimes he ate too much, or the food just didn't mix well with the poisonous substance, and the boy would lose the progress he had made.

Only the dark energon settled in his stomach. Jack hated it. He hated that it was the only thing that fill the void in his gut, his soul. He hated how he would _crave_ it, even though he didn't want it. The worst part of all, he knew that was exactly what Megatron wanted.

The shard felt warm on his chest.

Jack collected his gifts and pushed himself off of the booth. He thanked his friends, sincerely, but couldn't force any more conversation. He walked out of the restaurant, and out towards his lonely bike. The teen looked down at his feet, and he almost didn't see it.

It was a flash in the corner of his eye, but it made him freeze all the same. No, it couldn't be. The army brat told himself it was just another trick of the eye, that he had been mistaken dozens of times. Even with that in mind, Jack glanced up anyway. His breath caught in his throat.

No, it couldn't be.

Sleek, shiny curves of deep blue, gleaming under the hot desert sun. Streaks of light pink slashed through the cool color, but not distracting. A pair of fully-pumped, jet-black wheels, one pointed in his direction.

Jack blinked. Then again. And again. Waiting for the hallucination to disappear.

But it didn't.

The teenager dared to turn and took a step, and another. Slowly, cautiously, like if he moved too quickly, the mirage would vanish. But it stayed solid, even as he paused a foot away from it.

No, it wasn't—

"Arcee…"

"Hey, partner."


	2. Reunion

Jack decided he was definitely throwing out his bike. Instead of fidgeting on a rubbery seat, the teenager sunk into the motorcycle's saddle. His hands naturally curled around the handles. He leaned into each turn, his heart quickening with each burst of speed. The boy had spent his summer dodging cars, now Arcee effortlessly weaved between them.

The motorcycle was going so fast she almost missed the highway's exit. She cut in front of a semi-truck, summoning an angry blare of a horn, jumping off the road and onto the ramp. The road led to open desert, so there was less traffic. Leaving the interstate behind, Arcee turned off the grey asphalt and onto the bone-dry sand. She waited a few moments until the road disappeared from view. Then the Autobot floored it.

Jack let out a whoop as the two-wheeler leaned back on one wheel before falling back down, dust trailing behind her. The even, cracked earth of the salt flats offered no resistance as the motorcycle went faster and faster. The army brat felt the wind rip at his clothes, every purr of the engine, every slight turn of the wheel. His knuckles were bone-white, but it was not from fear. His entire body was tingling and his heart hammered in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Arcee had to be going _at least_ 120 miles per hour. She took advantage of the open space, doing wheelies, circles in the sand, and dizzying spins. Jack only laughed with each one. He completely lost track of time, but it had to be close to an hour, when the motorcycle finally slowed to a comfortable speed, now cruising along salt flats that surrounded the town. The army brat waited for the high from the rush to fade before he dared to speak, but his heart was still beating rapidly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, though he was definitely not against the idea.

When he saw her in town, and realized she was real, he had not hesitated to jump onto her saddle at her invitation. Now the excitement had calmed, he demanded to know why, how, his friend was here.

"Well, it's your birthday, isn't it?" Arcee replied in that cool tone of hers. "I thought you wouldn't mind a visit."

"No, I don't," Jack quickly defended with a shake of his head. "It's just that… I thought we weren't supposed to talk to each other anymore."

The Autobot was quiet for a few moments before she finally replied, "The base has been quiet lately. I could afford to go on a drive."

Jack instantly caught on to the mischievous undertone and he smiled, almost bursting out into a laugh. He never pegged _Arcee_ to be the type to sneak out of the house. Then he latched onto the former sentence. The _base_.

Diego Garcia, a NEST training facility that housed the Autobots. A small island in the middle of the Indian Ocean, it was the perfect place to hide the extra-terrestrials. After they were forced to abandon Autobot Outpost Omega One when the Decepticons discovered its location (which Jack still considered his fault, despite what anyone said). The last time the army brat was at the military base, he had watched the alliance between Autobots and humans all but evaporate.

"You're still at the base?" he echoed. "Does that mean…?"

Jack didn't know how to phase the question, but he didn't have to, as Arcee understood his meaning.

"Your leaders allowed us to stay on Earth for asylum, as long we continue to _only_ focus on Decepticon activities," the Autobot explained. "And redraft the treaty, of course."

Arcee explained it was necessarily the same as the first: that the Autobots were only to communicate with select military personnel and that they were not to trade weaponry. However, the revised treaty enforced that the guests obeyed the inhabitants' laws above all else.

When operating in another state, NEST forces were required to accompany the extraterrestrials. However, as readying an entire task force is not a simple thing, more than once the Decepticons escaped before the Autobots even arrived. It made it all the more concerning, when their mortal enemies had become increasingly more active.

"The 'Cons are making a move?" Jack asked, remembering the last time there was a surge of Decepticon attacks. When they were searching for their captured leader, and when they tried to summon an undead army to Earth.

"More like Megatron is gloating," Arcee replied bitterly.

The army brat swallowed. The Decepticon had not mentioned any of this in their conversations, but the warlord had always steered it in the human's direction. Now Jack knew why. His grip momentarily tightened on the handles.

He didn't know how to tell her, who had been keeping him company during the long weeks they had been separated. Who held him in the night as he screamed out in terror. Who filled his veins with the Blood of Unicron. He didn't know if he _could_ tell her. How would she even react?

"I mean, they got to realize how much of an advantage they're giving the 'Cons?" Jack said instead.

"Yeah, well, try explaining that to Galloway," Arcee grumbled.

Jack's gut twisted at the name. Theodore Galloway. He was the national security advisor to the president, and had no issue taking advantage of his authority. He was the one that took the 'Bots away.

The boy's blood boiled at the thought of the man, that had so easily dismissed the special connection between the teenagers and their guardians. That he had only considered the Autobots as military assets— _tools._ Just like Silas had.

Then the army brat digested Arcee's words.

"Wait, Galloway is the government's _liaison_?" he gasped.

Not only was the man expected to represent the interest of the US government, but the interests of the Autobots. When it was clear to Jack the security advisory did not respect the sentient beings' interests. The thought just made the boy's veins even hotter.

"How could they just replace Fowler?" he demanded. "After everything he's been through with the 'Bots?"

Agent William Fowler, was the Autobots' military contact. He made his patriotism to his country known, but he had proven on more than one occasion that he was almost just as loyal to the Autobots. He proved that, when he risked—and most likely—lost his career, when he hacked into government files for the Autobots. All so they could find Jack.

The boy gritted his teeth. "How can you just put up with that?"

There was a rumble of an engine that almost sounded like a sigh, as if summoning patience. "There was a time Fowler didn't always like us. In fact, he was no different from Galloway."

"But what about all the times he helped you guys?"

"He didn't start warming up to us, until, well, you came along. Maybe that was when he realized we weren't a threat to mankind."

Jack blinked at that. He couldn't see how Fowler could be anything like the man. Sure, the government agent had shown his annoyance towards the extra-terrestrials more than once, especially when their war lead to a mess that _he_ had to cover-up. Most of the time the man would visit the base only when there was a problem.

Then Jack remembered. When he and the other teenagers had first arrived to the Autobot base, Fowler had come for another "visit." The Autobots instantly attempted to hide the children, but Jack wasn't deaf to the open hostility that filled the man's tone. Which turned into fury when he discovered the newcomers, even threatening to take them into protective custody.

Before he could keep his promise, Fowler was taken prisoner by the Decepticons. It was only when the Autobots (along with their human counterparts, that were dragged along thanks to Miko) made a daring rescue, risking their own lives in the process, that he seemed grateful. He seemed more willing to defend the Autobots, than to blame them. And the fact that extraterrestrials _did_ save him went against the spy's suspicions.

"That's why he hated you? Because you were a security risk?"

"No." Jack squinted at that, but Arcee didn't immediately explain as she rounded a rock formation. After a long pause, the guardian explained carefully, "The Decepticons killed his brother. …The same night they attacked the Special Operations base."

The operations base. The same his father was stationed in. The same one Staff Sergeant Jonathan Darby was killed in.

"In Fowler's eyes, Decepticons and Autobots were one and the same," Arcee went on. "We were just as responsible for his brother's death, and so we were just as dangerous to humanity."

Jack was an only child. He never had any brothers or sisters. He had always been alone. The only ones that came even close were Raf and Miko. They were his family. Just to bear the thought of losing one of them… No wonder Fowler held so much resentment.

"Now he paid for his freedom, for my mistake," the teenager grumbled, looking down. His hold on the handle tightened.

"No, Jack," his partner refused curtly. "Fowler knew what he was getting into. He knew the risks. And he was willing to take them."

That didn't make Jack feel better. The man was most likely in prison, facing the charge of treason, and the Autobots were trapped with Galloway, who didn't even understand their war.

The pair had left the salt flats behind, instead taking a narrow path leading up in the mountains that towered over Jasper. The motorcycle went across the rough terrain effortlessly, pulling onto the crest of a hill within minutes when most required an ATV.

The hill wasn't as tall as some of the surrounding mountains, but it gave an impressive view of the Mojave Desert. The flat, cracked earth stretched on for miles in every direction, meeting the clear-blue sky on a hazy, distorted horizon. The little town of Jasper lay in the center of it, a cluster of buildings and even a few splashes of green in the desolate land. The highway had finally finished construction, the black asphalt cutting through the pale soil towards the metropolis of Las Vegas.

Arcee rolled to a stop, and Jack took his cue to step off, pulling off his helmet. There was suddenly the sound of turning gears, pulling wires, and shifting metal. The motorcycle he ridden for the past hour stood up in a form that towered two feet over him.

Deep blue plating ended in sharp-edged armor, but smooth curves gave her a feminine appearance. Sharp little winglets rose from her back, twitching in the dry, hot air. A gentle, warm, reassuring face looked down at him, with cool, calm optics.

Jack swallowed at the sight of Arcee's true form. The last time he'd seen his partner, he thought it would be the last. The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

"I've missed you, Arcee."

A smile was his reply. "I've missed you, too, partner."

Jack didn't know who moved first, but the in the next moment, he felt thin, but strong and sturdy arms wrapping around his shoulders. He pressed against a warm and solid chest, feeling a steady pulse spreading across the metal plating. They pulled away after a long moment, Jack reluctantly stepping out of the reach of her EM field.

"What about the others? Bumblebee? Bulkhead?" he asked. Raf and Miko would want to know about their former guardians, and he couldn't help but wonder himself.

"They're doing as well as… expected," Arcee explained, pausing for a moment as she sought the appropriate word. "They keep themselves busy."

The Autobot quickly averted her gaze, and it was then Jack realized. He had been sulking in his own misery all summer, while his friends tried their best to remain strong. Had it even occurred to their minds—to _his_ mind—that their guardians were just as broken?

The boy swallowed thickly. "What about Optimus?"

"He must uphold his duty as a Prime. He focuses on commanding all of us now, and negotiating with your people."

All of the Autobots. Jack remembered a year ago, he was convinced the five Autobots hiding in an abandoned military silo in the middle of the desert were the only ones on Earth. Not realizing there were whole other _teams_ working with the US military.

"And Ratchet does his best with repairs." It was then Arcee leaned in close and dropped her voice to a low murmur, like they were in the middle of a crowd. Not miles away from the closest civilization. "I think he misses you, too."

Jack practically giggled at the thought of the grumpy war veteran. When not tying a patient to a medical berth for repairs or monitoring frequencies during a mission, Ratchet spent most of his time trying to run the teenagers out of the base. A mission he had failed for an entire year.

The army brat quickly sobered. "I… I wish I could see them. It's just been… so long."

To a being that was _millions_ of years old, he knew the three months they had been apart must have passed by like a blink of an eye. To him, it was the longest weeks of his life. Arcee gave one of her rare, warm smiles, one that assured him that everything was going to be okay. Then it turned coy.

"Well… there _is_ nothing going on at the base," she hummed. She looked up thoughtfully for show, ignoring Jack's widening eyes. "I suppose… a _quick_ visit wouldn't hurt."

His eyes instantly became as large as dinner plates. It took a solid minute for him to speak, only able to make sputtering sounds. Finally his tongue began to work.

"I-Is that even possible?" the boy demanded. "What about the treaty? What about Galloway?"

Arcee gave a slight shrug. It was a human custom, so the movement was imitation more than anything else. "What Galloway doesn't know, won't hurt him."

Jack spent another minute just staring. Then his lips curled in a wide, happy smile. Just the thought of it—being with the Autobots again—made him shake his head in disbelief.

"We could get in so much trouble for this," he warned, but his chuckle ruined the heaviness of it.

"We do have a habit of looking for it, don't we?" Arcee drawled with her own amused tone.

With a blur of movement, she shifted back into a motorcycle, open saddle inviting. Jack instinctively took a step forward, only to hesitate.

His chest tingled again, and he was reminded of his "gift." And who gave it to him. He opened his mouth, to tell her, to confess. But no sound came out.

He still couldn't find the words. He still wasn't sure she would forgive him. Here he was, excited to be reunited with the Autobots, when he spent his summer with their mortal enemy. Jack breathed through his nose.

No, he couldn't tell them.

He quickly swung his leg over the saddle, and took a firm hold of the handles. He had just settled when there was a hum. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a foreign energy filled the air. There was a flash of light, so bright that the boy instinctively squinted. When his vision adjusted, he was greeted with a swirling vortex of green, blues, and luminous white.

The human and the Autobot pulled through the groundbridge together.

* * *

Brilliant light filled Jack's vision, so much so that all he saw was white. He _felt_ the delicate fabric of space and time warp around him, _pulling him_ , as it desperately tried to correct the tear in the continuum. He knew it had no effect on mighty Cybertronians, but as a human, Jack felt the stress in every fiber of his being. The human knew the process was instantaneous, but it felt like _years_ had gone by.

Yet the unpleasant sensation ended all too soon. Jack received an onslaught of sensations that made his head spin. He was greeted by bright sunlight, but instead of dry, hot air, there was moist, warm humidity that pressed against his skin. He scented salt filtering through the atmosphere, along with gas, oil, and gunpowder. It was then he was aware that the roar of the groundbridge was replaced by the roar of an aircraft. Along with growls of engines, clanking of equipment, and shouts of technicians, soldiers, and commanders.

Jack finally dared to open his eyes and realized instantly where he was.

Diego Garcia.

NEST headquarters.

Arcee slowly pulled through the chaos of the base, careful not to collide with any of the dozens of obstacles. Jack felt horribly exposed, being the only one out of uniform, but no one paid him any mind, too caught up in their tasks.

Suddenly a loud rev of an engine filled the air, echoing off the buildings of the base. Followed by another, and another. It seemed like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were racing on the runway again. And was that Bumblebee? Jack instinctively turned to find the source, but only to see an angry technician run across his vision.

"HEY! Get them off the track! I have a bird coming in—" He glanced at his watch and made an undignified sound. "I'm not being paid enough to deal with this!"

Jack chuckled under his breath, but he didn't see the outcome as Arcee pulled into a hanger. He instantly recognized this one had high-ceilings and wide, open space. Not even the mass of soldiers and engineers could fill it. Suddenly the teenager saw movement in the corner of his eye, and glanced over only to see a flash of white. Smokescreen.

The former Elite Guard was hunched over, with a ring of NEST soldiers around him. They all sat comfortably, watching him, as a captain stood and barked over the noise.

"This is how you do a Decepticon head kill-shot," he explained, pointing up.

Just as two soldiers in all-black armor fell from the rafters, landing square on Smokescreen's shoulders. The Autobot immediately fell to all fours in mock pain, having the pair slip off. Only for the skilled soldiers to land on their backs, assault rifles trained on the Cybertronian's optics.

Jack was pulled from the training session as Arcee rolled further into the hanger. Allowing the army brat to see another familiar figure. Shorter than some Cybertronians, but stocky with sturdy armor, especially with a med-pack strapped to his back. The teen could recognize that ambulance white and red anywhere.

"Ratchet!" he cried out with excitement.

Instantly the old Autobot froze mid-tap, servos hovering over the keys of the computer he was monitoring.

"By the AllSpark…" Ratchet gasped, whirling around and glancing down. Sure enough, his optics widened at the sight of the teenaged human. The medic let out one of his famous sputters. "H-h-how did you get here? You're not—" Then he settled a glare at the motorcycle that Jack clung to. "Arcee!"

Recognizing that famous scolding tone, the army brat promptly stepped off, allowing Arcee to transform to her full height.

"Jack is only visiting for a little bit," the femme defended. She placed her servos on her hips. "I'll bring him home before dinnertime."

"That's not the issue!" Ratchet spat. "Do you _know_ the trouble Optimus went through to secure the alliance all over again? Do you _want_ to jeopardize our operations?"

The accusation made Jack flinch. He was so excited with the idea of seeing everyone, he hadn't thought of the consequences, and why he was kicked out of NEST in the first place. Guilt pricked his chest. Maybe he shouldn't have come…

However, Arcee showed no remorse whatsoever.

"He can't possibly do as much harm as Galloway has," the two-wheeler argued, waving an exasperated servo.

"Arcee…"

"What? If he's not here, I don't have to play nice."

Ratchet's optics flashed and he opened his mouth, only to pause when he noticed the little figure by Arcee's leg. He looked to her, and when he reopened his lips, a series of clicks, whirrs, and beeps came out. They strung together, forming words that no human could ever replicate. Sounds that a human _shouldn't_ replicate.

It only gave Jack a headache.

 _"_ _I know being separated from your charge has been difficult for you—it's been difficult for all of us,"_ Ratchet buzzed. The teenager hoped he was a good actor, trying to stare blankly, even as his head was tilted, listening. _"But this is an unacceptable way to handle it."_

 _"_ _I can handle it just fine, Ratchet,"_ Arcee retorted. _"If there's any trouble, I will accept full responsibility."_

 _"_ _That's what I'm worried about."_

With a frustrated huff, the motorcycle looked back down at her partner. Jack just attempted to look clueless, even as his stomach knotted and his skull pounded. A part of him _knew_ he should tell her. But like so many things, he didn't know where to begin.

Even if they believed him, they would topple over from a spark attack than actually be impressed. And last thing he needed was the following conversation to lead to mentioning the "lessons" he had been receiving. Besides, obviously they didn't want him to hear any of that, and Jack didn't want to make the situation more awkward than it already was.

So the human stayed quiet, and did not tell his guardians he spoke their language.

Before he could change his mind, another deep growl of an engine reverberated across the hanger. Jack turned to see another vehicle. It was an all jet-black GMC Topkick truck, gleaming under the bright fluorescent lights. The car rolled to a stop, and the doors popped open. Allowing Jack to hear a familiar drawl.

"Well, well, well… _Look_ what the cat dragged in."

The army brat turned to see a tall, lanky man dressed in a flashy black suit exit the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him. His curly, salt-and-pepper hair was cut short to his scalp, and those black eyes peered at him like a critical hawk.

"Hey, Simmons," Jack greeted.

Well, at least they hadn't kicked Seymour Simmons out, yet. But as a consultant from Sector Seven, a 100-year-old organization specializing in Cybertronians, it was unlikely. Still, the boy couldn't help but eye the man warily, as memories that weren't his flashed across his mind.

Then his attention was diverted as a second figure stepped out of the driver's seat. Broad-shouldered, tall, and lean with muscles, the man held himself with authority. He was wearing an all-black set of armor, even in the warm weather outside. Bronze hair was cut short and seasoned brown eyes scanned every inch of his form.

"What are you doing here?" Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox asked, but his tone was more curious than hostile.

"Um, visiting," Jack confessed, trying to sound innocent.

"Oh, yeah?" Simmons pressed, pausing in front of him and crossing his arms over his chest. "Where's your visitor's pass?"

"Uh…"

He couldn't help but glance at Arcee, and instantly the pair of men followed his gaze. Simmons let out a laugh. Lennox frowned.

"You know I could arrest you," the former Sector Seven agent threatened, but his tone wasn't nearly as serious.

"Yeah," Jack shrugged.

Simmons smiled. "I like you."

Meanwhile, Lennox just glared up at Arcee. "You could have checked with me, first."

He held a much more scolding tone, but the Autobot defended herself calmly.

"It was a last minute decision," she huffed.

Lennox rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze to Jack. The teenager instantly tensed as sharp eyes scrutinized fell on him once again, like a defendant standing up to a grand jury. Finally the lieutenant colonel made his decision.

"You leave in two hours," he said in an iron voice. "That should give you plenty of time to catch up."

"Yes, sir," Jack hummed obediently, even though he was bursting with excitement.

The NEST commander's stern expression was broken by a quirk of the lips—a hint of the warm, compassionate nature under the rigged discipline. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, Lennox whirling around to face Ratchet.

"Any word from them yet?" he asked in that authoritative tone, back to business.

"No, not—" the medic started to answer, only for a beep from the monitor to interrupt him. He turned his attention to it. "Hold on."

Jack didn't hear the rest of the conversation. Suddenly something large and blunt poked his back, making him jump sky-high. He whirled around to confront the source, only to meet ice-blue optics and a stone face where the truck had just been. Ironhide.

"What?" the teenager demanded.

Suddenly there was a sound of air, like a sharp intake, even though he knew that Cybertronians did not breathe. Then—

"You smell like Megatron," the Autobot growled, almost dangerously.

Instantly every muscle in Jack's body tensed and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. They could _smell_? When could they _smell_? The boy felt like a crook who had just been caught by the cops' K-9 unit.

Suddenly there was a sharp sound from Arcee, but the teen was too panicked to translate. Ironhide huffed in agitation. It was then Jack realized. He whirled around, looking up at his partner. She only gave him that reassuring smile.

She _knew_.

It was then that loud, familiar hum filled the air. Green light poured into the hanger. Only a few heads glanced up at the swirling portal; the rest acted like they were used to the impossible phenomenon.

There was a flash, and then a roar of an engine filled the air. Jack knew that sound. It was one he heard every day for a year, so loud, so deep, so _powerful_ , it seeped into his bones. Bright, warm crimson and calm, cool blue shades filled his vision. The colors came together in a shape of a semi-truck, twice as large as even Ironhide's alt mode. The truck rolled to a stop in the center of the scrutinizing stares. The driver's door popped open and a loud whoop of victory echoed.

"Hit the jackpot, baby!"

A broad form slipped out of the semi-truck, dressed in full battle armor. A helmet was ripped off, to reveal a bald head shiny with sweat and a wide smile of white teeth. Chief Master Sergeant Robert Epps reached back inside the vehicle, pulling out a crate. Jack could tell it was heavy with how it dragged down the man's arms, but his pace was not hindered as he crossed the space to the chatting group. He slammed the crate on a nearby table with a loud bang that even shook the piece of furniture.

Instantly Jack and the other humans huddled around like it was a treasure chest, just as Epps popped open the lid. Allowing a cerulean light to pour forth, and a soft hum sounded. Jack leaned forward, feeling the tingle of energy that radiated from the bright crystals that lay within the crate.

Energon.

"A lot more where that came from," Epps exclaimed proudly, still wearing that broad grin.

It was then there was a sound of shifting gears behind them. The humans turned to see the semi-truck change shape. It stood up on two, solid legs that held up a large, broad, and strong form. Jack met calm, hard optics and a smooth, stern face.

His heart beat against his ribs. He ignored the flurry of mixed emotions that welled up to his chest, as he instantly recognized the figure.

Optimus Prime.

"The energon mine was one of the Decepticon's smaller operations," the Autobot leader explained in his slow baritone. "Its minimal security allowed us to secure it without much resistance. But—" The Guardian Knight nodded to Epps. "—it will sustain us for a time."

There were relieved gasps and even laughs. Another flash, revealing a large, green Humvee. It paused beside the Prime, allowing half a dozen soldiers to pile out. They looked battle-weary, covered in grime and soot and blood, but their bright eyes showed their excitement. Lennox immediately recognized it.

"Excellent work, men!" he praised.

Cheers immediately replied.

The Humvee transformed into a large, bulky Transformer. Although he was not as tall as Optimus, he made it up with thick armor plating. Bulkhead looked just as happy as his human allies.

However, the colonel sobered as he turned to Epps. "Any casualties?"

"Draugn has a sprained ankle and Sartoris has a nasty cut on his arm," his best friend replied. "But—"

He was interrupted by another flash, this one accompanied by a frantic engine. A red-hot Ferrari sped into the hanger, already transforming before it came to a complete stop. Revealing another mech, holding a limp soldier in his servo.

"And then there's that," Epps added, but his voice held no mirth. Instantly the gathered humans rushed forward.

"What happened?" Lennox demanded.

"The 'Cons played dirty," Mirage replied in a clipped accent. "A drone shot at a cluster of energon. He couldn't escape the explosion. I took him the klik I realized he was still alive."

The Autobots slowly, _gently_ laid the figure down on the cold floor. He retracted his stained servo, stepping away as Lennox replaced him by the soldier's side.

"Torres!" he cried. "Torres, can you hear me?" When he received no reply, he raised his voice to a sharp yell, "I need a corpsman!"

Jack stepped forward, but he didn't know why. He instantly regretted it.

A sharp, horrible, repulsive smell assaulted him, so violently he flinched back. It took him several seconds to decipher the scent. Charred flesh.

He looked back, only for bile to rise up into his throat. Instead of a man, there was the bloody, blackened body. The armor that was meant to protect his vitals was completely burned black, and the fatigues underneath were torn and vaporized. It seemed the right side received the worst of it. The exposed skin was a hellish red, interrupted by black crevices. Crimson blood seeped onto the floor. Jack tried to find features of a distinctive face, but he couldn't.

Suddenly he was shoved to the side as a pair of medics rushed forward. Only Lennox remained as the humans and Cybertronians stepped out of the way. Jack noticed Ratchet had neared, but as a Cybertronian doctor, there was little he could do. All they could do was wait, for several, long, agonizing moments, then—

Jack started as suddenly a ragged, high-pitched, blood-curdling scream erupted. Suddenly the still body came to life—kicking, punching and flailing frantically.

"Hold him down!" Lennox ordered, and several soldiers stepped forward.

The sound—that didn't even sound _human_ —only seemed to worsen. Even a couple of the Autobots winced, audial fins flattening at the ear-spitting shrieks. Jack could only watch, frozen, as the medic wrestled the writhing body, a syringe in hand. Ignoring the rapid, slurred, incoherent babbling that filled the inhuman screeches.

Lennox looked up, ordering, "Jack, get out of here. _Now_."

Simmons took that as his cue. He took the teenager by the arm, spinning him around and yanking him out of the spot he had been glued to. A firm hand on his back ushered Jack out of the hanger, the screams of pure, raw agony following him.


	3. Beacon

Jack saw the body writhing in front of him. He heard the blood curdling screams, filling the air. The image filling his vision, he didn't see the cup of water until it was waved in front of his face. The boy jumped a little, blinking and the figure disappeared. He looked up to see another.

"Drink something," Simmons ordered.

Jack didn't realize his hands were trembling until he reached up, hesitantly taking the drink. He tentatively sipped the cool water as the agent moved away.

"Sorry you had to see that," the man apologized as he sat in the chair across from the poor boy. "I'm sure that's not what you had in mind when you came here."

They had retreated to an isolated breakroom, filled with lonely chairs, a station for coffee and water, and even a couple vending machines. It was deathly quiet, compared to the bustle of the base and the buzz of the Autobots' main hangar. Jack tried to focus on the silence, rather than what was echoing in his ears. It was hard.

The grip on the cup tightened. He _hated_ war. All it did was bring pain and suffering and loss. It hurt innocent people. It tore families apart. It tore _his_ family apart. Now there was another family out there—

No. He couldn't finish that thought.

"H-he's going to make it through, right?" Jack blurted in a low voice. Simmons considered his question for a long moment.

"Energon poisoning is nasty," the man confessed reluctantly. "He's young, though."

It did almost nothing to assure the teenager, but he realized it was all the agent could offer. If it was a natural combustion, it was already a critical situation, but energon made it so much worse. It was the source of all Cybertronian life, the fuel for all of their technology. However, the substance was highly toxic to humans.

Instead of a renewing ability, the energy of the alien crystals had a degenerative effect on organic cells, like radiation. Slow and painful, it destroyed a human from the inside out.

But not for Jack.

"Why?" he murmured in a barely audible voice. Simmons perked up at the question. "Why am I immune to energon, but no one else is?"

"Dark energon is… different," the agent argued.

Jack snapped, " _How_? All it does is destroy. Not even the Autobots can handle it. If anything, it should _kill_ me."

Before the man could reply, the door swung open, revealing a weary Lennox. Instantly the question bubbled up Jack's throat, but he was too afraid to ask it. Simmons did it for him.

"How's the kid?" he inquired.

"In surgery," Lennox answered in a sigh. "They're trying to flush the energon from his systems."

Jack did not want to mention how little effect that procedure had. Instead, he watched as Lennox slumped in a chair across from him. It was only then the teenager noticed how the NEST commander seemed to age from the last time they met. Dark bags lay under his eyes, and his frown-lines seemed to have deepened.

"Pentagon's gonna have a field day with this," Lennox sighed, running a hand through his greying hair.

"Well, what do they expect when we send our boys into a mine full of combustible material?" Simmons retorted.

"Wait," Jack interrupted, perking up. "You mean the _'Bots_ could get blamed for this?"

"As far as the Pentagon's concerned, we all wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for the 'Bots."

"But what about NEST? I thought the whole point was—"

"A lot of things have changed since the last time you were here, Jack," Lennox interrupted. "You can't just go hang out with the 'Bots after a day of school anymore. Negotiations have been… tense."

Jack could only stare, trying to digest the NEST commander's words. He looked between the two men.

"The Autobots are our _allies_ ," the boy argued. "It's the Decepticons that are—"

"—only here on Earth to collect energon, so they can fuel their technology to continue fighting Autobots."

A blink. This time it took several moments for the teenager's brain to translate that statement. The Pentagon _was_ blaming the Autobots. The only reason Decepticons had set up operations on Earth was because of the presence of their mortal enemy. They were only interested in their war, and nothing else, not even the small beings that died in the crossfire.

Like a lion with its sights set on a gazelle, completely oblivious to the defenseless human beside it. The Decepticons only cared about the Autobots, and were no threat to humanity.

"They actually _think_ that?" gasped Jack.

Lennox's look told all. The teenager couldn't even fathom such an idea. It couldn't be farther from the truth.

The Decepticons were cold, ruthless, and unforgiving. When their brutality destroyed their own homeworld of Cybertron, the war had spread to other solar systems. Ruining _hundreds_ of planets. Then there was Earth.

It had once been a Decepticon outpost, stolen from an Autobot colony. The Cybertronians stored scores of energon, hoarding spoils of war. It was meant to be a refueling station, which attracted the weary and desperate Decepticons, that were scattered after the Fall of Cybertron. Only when the planet's natural magnetic fields of the north pole interfered with the _Harbinger_ 's navigational system, it sent it crashing into the Earth.

Leaving Megatron stranded, and forced into stasis lock for thousands of years.

Only to be found by humans.

Tortured, experimented on, and effectively humiliated, the vengeful warlord would stop at nothing to punish those responsible. He had already destroyed those responsible for his capture—Sector Seven. He had ripped apart their headquarters and assassinated their numbers one-by-one. Until only Simmons was left.

Now the rest of humanity was next. However, it was true that the Decepticons did not engage with civilians. They were careful not to expose their identities, disguised themselves around humans, and preferred to avoid civilization at all costs. It was likely a tactical decision. Megatron could direct his forces towards collecting energon and fighting the Autobots and their military allies, rather than face several billion humans at once.

"Can't you do anything?" Jack demanded.

"Trust me, I've tried," Lennox sighed. "But Fowler was better at getting to them than I was."

 _Was_. Fowler wasn't around anymore. He was—

It was then the question that had been burning in Jack's chest since he last saw the man bubbled up to the surface.

"Is he… okay?" the boy asked timidly.

"He's fine," Lennox assured.

"He's not…" He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase the question, and thankfully he didn't have to.

"Fowler knows a lot of people in D.C. The judge even owes him a few favors. He was released on bail."

"Can they do that for someone accused of treason?"

Simmons made a face, but Lennox explained patiently, "The thing is, prosecution doesn't know anything about the 'Bots, so as far as they're concerned, Fowler didn't sell any secrets to a foreign power. So now he's being blamed for interfering with CIA operations."

A lesser charge than Jack originally thought, but the teenager had a feeling that meddling with a government agency wasn't a good thing, either.

The lieutenant colonel must have noticed his concern, because he added, "I just talked to him yesterday. Man's driving himself up a wall with not having anything to do."

That sounded like Fowler. The man lived on a full-time schedule. He constantly went from one side of the country to the other, delegating between the Autobots, NEST, and the Pentagon. Now all he could do was sit and do nothing, waiting for another's hands to seal his fate.

"Is there any chance I can talk to him?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Probably not the best idea, right now," Simmons answered. "Not until the trial."

The army brat nodded, understanding, but couldn't help slumping his shoulders.

"It's not your fault, Jack," Lennox assured, like he could read the boy's mind.

"…I know," Jack sighed, but he did not believe the words.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the army brat sipping on his water while Lennox stared between his feet and Simmons found an interesting spot on the wall.

Finally, the NEST commander broke by saying, "You can go home if you want, you know."

Jack shook his head. "No. I came here to see the Autobots. I want to stay."

He didn't want to be alone again.

Lennox nodded, understanding. "I'll take you back, then. Arcee's worried about you."

No doubt his protective guardian was working herself into a frenzy, knowing her charge was dragged away from her on the verge of a panic attack. Jack trailed after the two men through the maze-like base, though he had to quicken his steps to meet their purposeful strides. He noticed Lennox didn't take him to the main hangar, but instead, Hangar E, the Autobot's personal quarters.

It was about the same size as the other warehouse, except it was devoid of humans and full of Cybertronian technology. Or at least, the technology the Autobots currently had in their possession. Jack hadn't even stepped into the expansive lobby when a large, slim blue figure filled his vision.

"Jack, are you alright?" Arcee demanded, already fussing over him like a mother hen.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" the teen dismissed, raising his hands in the air. "I'm not some little kid!"

The Autobot shot him a look, but before she could say anything, there were heavy, slow pedes nearing them. Jack had to nearly crane his neck all the way up to meet the optics of Optimus Prime.

"I was not expecting your arrival," the Autobot leader mused, and the teen did not miss the glance he sent Arcee, but he wouldn't describe it as hostile. "I am relieved to see you are well."

It depended on the mech's definition of "well." But instead of describing his summer's downward spiral, the boy smiled warmly.

"It's good to be here," he replied simply instead.

He ignored the flurry of emotions that were not his rage in his chest. The boy couldn't help but remember when Optimus Prime had left him in the mercy of Megatron—how he _let_ the vicious tyrant take him away, just so Jack wouldn't be hurt in the ensuing fight. Even though the Decepticon leader had hurt him anyway. Then the Prime did not fight to keep the children in his custody, after everything they had been through together. If anything, it was like the Autobot leader wanted to be rid of the human charges.

 _Because the Autobots made you useless._

Jack ignored the whisper in his mind, instead following Arcee further into the hangar. Only when he did, he heard the same trio of engines that greeted him when he first arrived, along with the sounds of transformation.

 _"_ _New personal best!"_ Jack froze. Was that— _"You two need to learn to keep up."_

No, impossible.

He understood _him_?

Jack looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, he was greeted with a flash of black and yellow.

Bumblebee.

The Camaro stepped into the hangar, with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker behind him, the twins rolling back and forth on wheels instead of pedes. The scout glanced down, optics going as wide and bright as moons.

 _"_ _What is Jack doing here?"_ he whirred.

Jack's headache evolved into a migraine.

He _understood_ him. Before, it had confused him how Raf could translate the series of beeps and whirrs so effortlessly. The genius had merely explained that he heard a pattern in the metallic sounds, that formed together in its own language. Jack had just thought the Hispanic boy was filling in the gaps, not understanding _Cybertronian_.

It wasn't as fluid or natural like the others. The tone was methodical and plastic, devoid of inflictions, like an automated voice. Jack briefly remembered Ratchet had mentioned once that Bumblebee had a voice box prosthesis that allowed him to make basic communications, but could not replicate new sounds. It explained why Bumblebee could continue to speak in Cybertronian, even in that false voice, but could not speak English or other languages.

Jack didn't hear Arcee's reply, but he did feel a tentative servo on his shoulder.

"Jack? Everything okay?" his guardian pressed softly, kneeling down to his level.

The army brat didn't notice that during his realization, he had frozen up in shock. To an eye or optic, it must have looked like he was having a stroke. He almost caved, almost told her. _That he understood Bumblebee_.

Then another sharp alarm went off.

Instantly everyone's attention diverted to it, even Arcee's. Ratchet was by the monitor in an instant, already tapping away. Only for the old Autobot to freeze.

"How can this be?" he gasped.

"What is it?" Lennox asked, stepping forward.

Ratchet's optics went wide in shock. "It's an Autobot beacon!"

"How can that be right?" Epps demanded from where he was lounging on a crate of supplies beside Ironhide. "Everyone's here!" He tilted his head. "Right?"

While the master sergeant began counting the heads of the giant metal beings, Lennox trotted up the platform beside the monitor. Jack and Simmons followed him.

"Where is it coming from?" the lieutenant colonel demanded.

Ratchet pulled up a map on the screen, which was interrupted by a pulsing dot. It zoomed in on the portion of planet around the blip, and Jack instantly recognized it.

"France?" he identified, his confusion only growing.

"Paris," Lennox corrected, folding his arms over his chest, just as puzzled as the rest of them. "But how is that possible? We don't have any NEST forces stationed there."

"What would a 'Bot be doing in Paris, anyway?" Epps asked.

"Maybe it wants to check out the tourists sites," Simmons quipped.

"Could it be the, uh, 'research team'?" Jack asked. He remembered that Lennox briefly mentioned them during his last visit. Another team of Autobots, that worked in seclusion rather than confront Decepticons.

"No," the NEST commander answered. "They're stationed in the States."

Jack squinted at the blip—the beacon on the map. It made no sense. All the known Autobots were accounted for. A new arrival? It was possible, as the aliens were scattered after the Fall of Cybertron. It could have been a lone traveler, who found themselves stranded on Earth. But stranded in the middle of Paris, sending a beacon in hopes of help?

Jack was sure the city's millions of residents would notice something like that. It was Lennox that said it first.

"Something's not right."

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one thinking that," Simmons replied sarcastically.

"A Decepticon trap?" Epps guessed.

"I would not put it past Megatron's devices," Optimus rumbled, stepping up to the terminal.

"But why set up a trap in the capital of another country?" Jack asked. "Megatron doesn't like humans."

The Decepticon warlord would gain nothing orchestrating a brawl in the center of a populated area. There was no strategic value in the capital, anyway. The narrow streets and tall buildings would offer no room for the giants, and the crowds and vehicles and dozens of other obstacles would just interfere. And if Megatron, for some absurd reason, _wanted_ to expose their secret, he would not wait on the Autobots to do it.

"Then what if it _is_ an Autobot?" Bulkhead demanded "We can't just leave them!"

"Unlikely," Ratchet admitted as he meddled with the monitor, trying to isolate the frequency.

"What do you mean?" Lennox asked.

"It is an _ancient_ Autobot frequency. I haven't seen something like this since the waning days of Cybertron. Before the Fall of Iacon, in fact."

"Oh, that clears things up!" Simmons exasperated.

"So it _is_ a trap," Arcee deadpanned.

"Or, the Decepticons are being nice enough to tell us right where they are," Ironhide purred.

"Yeah, let's go scrap 'em!" cheered Smokescreen.

"Bright idea, let's go in the middle of the human city and we all get caught," Mirage sniffed.

"If it is an Autobot homing beacon, it is our responsibility to investigate its origins," Optimus declared.

Sunstreaker grumbled, "I knew he was going to say that."

"However, we must proceed with extreme caution."

"And keep a low profile," Lennox added. "It's easy to get noticed in a place like Paris."

The Prime nodded in agreement. "Arcee, Bumblebee, and Sideswipe, you are the best choices to navigate through such a densely populated area."

They were still flashy cars, especially Sideswipe, who was a sleek silver corvette, but Jack supposed they blended in better than a giant semi-truck or a Humvee. However, they still had a problem.

"What about covers?" Jack pressed. When he was just given puzzled looks, he added, "You're gonna need a face man. Someone who can speak on their behalf. A human that can run interference if their cover gets blown."

"Good point," Epps shrugged.

"I'll go," Simmons volunteered. "I'm a people-person."

"Sending in a Sector Seven agent into what could be a Decepticon trap," Lennox mused, and then shot the man a look. "I don't think so." When the former agent only frowned in disappointment, the lieutenant colonel decided, "I'll go."

"Yeah, let's send in the only sensible commander on this whole damned island," Epps drawled.

"I know how to shoot."

"I thought we were trying to avoid a shoot out."

Lennox wheeled around to face his friend to continue the argument, but then Jack spoke up.

"I can go," the teenager volunteered.

"Absolutely not," the NEST commander refused with a wave of his hand.

"I can pose as an American student. And I'm not a soldier or some military commander. I'm expendable."

Arcee was the one to protest, "You're not—"

" _I am_. If something happens and there's a fight, you guys have to answer for it. I don't."

Lennox frowned. If today's earlier incident was anything to go by, NEST forces were limited. Every soldier counted, and if someone got hurt—got _killed_ —it would be the Autobots that would face the consequences. But no one was counting a six— _seven_ teen-year-old teenager.

"He's right," Simmons shrugged from his spot, leaning on a nearby table.

"I'm not endangering the life of a teenager," said the NEST commander.

"I'll be with Arcee and the others. I'll…" Jack couldn't help but hesitate, that voice whispering in his ear and the images flashing across his mind. Of how the Autobots abandoned him. He forced himself to say, "I'll be fine."

When the man didn't look convinced, Arcee added, "I'll look after him."

Several moments of silence passed as Lennox looked at an interesting spot on a wall. Jack could practically see the man going through every possible scenario, and every possible conclusion. No doubt he was trying to find the one that ended with all of them going home. Finally the man sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat.

 _"_ _Fine_ ," he ground out. Before Jack could give any kind of shout of joy, he added in a snap, "But you evac at the first sign of trouble."

The army brat stood to attention like a soldier at a uniform inspect. "Yes, sir."

Optimus nodded, as if he agreed with the decision. "Very well. Jack will accompany Arcee, Bumblebee, and Sideswipe. Ratchet, initiate transport."

* * *

The groundbridge yawned open in a dark, damp alley and shut as soon as the convoy of Autobots slipped through. Jack swallowed the bile that rose into his throat. Going through the groundbridge the second time that day was almost as disorienting at the first one. It took him several long moments to drink in his surroundings. Only when he did, Jack gasped.

Stone buildings towered over him, covered in detailed carvings of gothic architecture. After centuries of age, they still stood proud and tall, the miniscule chips and faded color of the stone the only betrayal of erosion. The smooth avenues alternated between cobblestone and asphalt, which the Autobots effortlessly glided over.

Jack's nostrils were filled with foreign scents of spices and an ancient, musky smell. Something acrid drifted through the air, but he couldn't place it. It was significantly cooler than the humidity Diego Garcia, a strong wind rustling his clothes.

As an army brat, the boy had traveled to one side of the States to another. He had lived on military bases and navigated both small, isolated towns and bustling metropolises. But the city of Paris wasn't like anything in America. The American couldn't help but drink in every detail of the exotic city, etching into his memory.

The Autobots moved significantly slower than usual, keeping pace with the traffic that flowed through the capital. Crowds filled the sides of the roads, dressed in all different colors and styles and no person looked alike. No one batted the teenager or even the pristine, sleek vehicles an eye, as they continued on through their day in a calm, relaxed stride. There was no panic, no rush, like in American cities. Everyone enjoyed the present as it was, and relished in it like it could last forever.

Jack wished he had that luxury, to forget about the drama and excitement that filled his life on a day-to-day basis. He even wanted to take in the sites that surrounded him—the gigantic cathedral of Notre-Dame, the gleaming pyramid of Louvre, and the tall Eiffel Tower. But he realized he couldn't.

This was a mission. They had to find the source of the signal. Millions of people filled the city, and all of them were none the wiser that there was a war in their streets.

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Arcee spoke over the comms. The cool voice filling the interior of his helmet ripped Jack from his thoughts. "But remember boys: keep a low profile."

 _"_ _Understood,"_ Bumblebee clicked.

"Right," Sideswipe agreed.

With that, the sports cars peeled away in opposite directions as the motorcycle continued forward. Jack eyed the monitor Ratchet supplied him with. The coordinates weren't precise, and the best the medic could supply was the general vicinity of the source. It was like the signal was being distorted, coming in and out of existence and jumping from one area of the city to another. Ratchet hypothesized the stone architecture of the city was interfering with the frequency.

It seemed they would have to do this the old-fashioned way, then. That is, if they could determine a vague energy source in one of the oldest, largest cities in Europe. Jack had a sense it was easier to find a needle in a haystack.

Arcee pulled up to a small intersection, only having a handle of cars waiting patiently for the red light to turn. Meddling with the device in his hand, Jack was so distracted he almost didn't hear it.

A low purr of engine filled the air. Instantly every muscle in Jack's body froze. He felt Arcee's engine sputter beneath him. Oh, no…

Sure enough, he glanced the side-view mirror to see a bright, _shiny_ flash of red. The Aston Martin pulled up beside the pair all too casually, finish so pristine that Jack could see his reflection.

"You two haven't seen any _Autobots_ around here, have you?" came a purr in a taunting, cocky drawl.

" _Knock Out_ ," the two-wheeler growled, revving her engine threateningly.

The Decepticon ignored her. "Hey, Jackie-boy, how about I give you a _real_ ride?"

"No, thanks," Jack spat.

"Oh, come on, don't you want to be on the winning team?"

"I'm already on it."

Knock Out made a noise of mock pain. " _Oh_. You're a cheeky one, aren't you? No wonder Lord Megatron has taken such a fancy towards you."

Jack's face flushed without his permission and his grip tightened the handles. He did not appreciate the Decepticon medic was using his relationship with the warlord against him. If it could even be called a relationship.

"Ignore him," Arcee murmured to him.

The army brat tried, but it was hard when the sports car moved on to revving his engine. Loudly. Of course, the obvious challenge riled the boy's guardian up, who replied with growls of her own. They even inched forward, each trying to gain the slightest advantage over the other. Jack was ready for the pair to transform and begin a brawl in the middle of the intersection, until the light finally turned green.

Both vehicles shot forward with a roar. Jack wheezed as his body lurch at the sudden acceleration. Arcee was arguably the fastest Autobots on the planet—she was even renowned throughout the ranks for being too quick for the enemy to catch. Knock Out did not have the best combat abilities or even surgical expertise, but he made up for it with speed. He kept pace with the motorcycle, coming threateningly close more than once.

The stalemate ended when they caught up with traffic, the pair forcing to slow to prevent colliding with the sedans taking up both lanes. Knock Out growled in annoyance, giving Arcee the chance to surge forward. She narrowly weaved between two cars, speeding past them and leaving the Aston Martin behind. Before Jack could give a triumphant laugh, the Decepticon weaved out of the trail on traffic, turning onto the _sidewalk_.

There were startled screams as people scrambled out of the way as the sports car tore down the side of street. More than once he came too close to hitting an unsuspecting citizen. Jack could only yelp as Knock Out went by in a streak of red, suddenly veering _towards_ Arcee. The motorcycle was forced to break, allowing the Decepticon to take the lead with a mocking laugh.

With a frustrated growl, the Autobot tried to force her way by, but the Aston Martin veered back and forth, blocking her off. They pulled onto a main road, this one having twice as many lanes as the narrow avenue did. And twice as much traffic. Apparently it gave Arcee an idea.

"Might want to hold on to something," was the only warning Jack received before the two-wheeler surged forward.

Straight into incoming traffic.

Jack's terrified scream almost swallowed the orchestra of car horns that greeted them, along with the horrible screeches of tires and flashes of steel. The Autobot effortlessly dodged and weaved between the cars, that had much more difficulty avoiding her. The teenager cringed when a couple vehicles veered off the road and one slammed into another. He was all too relieved when Arcee pulled back on to the correct side of the road, Knock Out several car-lengths behind.

"Have you pinpointed the frequency?" the Autobot suddenly demanded.

"W-wha?" Jack stammered, his life still flashing before his eyes.

"The signal! Do you know where it's coming from?"

Snapping back into reality with a start, the boy fumbled for the device with shaking fingers. To be greeted with a dot filling the screen, only a couple blocks away on the miniature map.

"I have it!" he exclaimed.

"Keep an eye on it," his guardian ordered, her mirrors flashing as she adjusted them. "I'll try to lose Knock Out."

Sure enough, an angry growl came up from behind, assaulting Jack's ears. Without warning, Arcee veered onto another street, jerking so suddenly that the rider's entire body jolted at the movement. Then she took another turn, and another and another. The boy was starting to become disoriented with the rapid movements.

There was less traffic on the backstreets, the motorcycle passing the handful of cars effortlessly. However, so did Knock Out. The Aston Martin kept pace, engine revving threateningly and his crimson paint flashing a dangerous red. Jack gritted his teeth, knowing Arcee couldn't outrun him forever. Where were the others?

Arcee made another turn, and the army brat glanced up only to see a white wall. A cargo contained filled the road ahead, the driver oblivious to the high-speed chase headed his way. Before Jack could work up a shout, the world tilted.

Arcee leaned on her side, the rider's leg an inch from the ground. There was an awful, high-pitched squeal as the motorcycle skidded across the street, throwing up smoke and debris. Jack didn't even notice the smell of burning rubber, still locked on the looming truck ahead. Then suddenly the white wall vanished, replaced by shadow. It took a full second for the teenager to register that Arcee had slid _under_ the truck.

Just as quickly the sunlight returned in a harsh glare, and the world panned back into place. Behind Jack, there was a furious shriek. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see the truck still blocking the entire road, Knock Out still stuck on the other side. Apparently not even the low sports car could slide under the narrow gap.

High from the adrenaline rush, Jack let out a triumphant laugh and threw a fist. "See ya later, Doc Knock!" He glanced at the device. "Arcee, right here! Take a left!"

Even though the threat had passed, the Autobot did not slow down as she rounded the corner, just narrowly avoiding an incoming car. The teenager started at the monitor for several blocks until he finally ordered his partner to stop. She did so with a squeal of tires, but only when she did, Jack blinked.

"What is this?" Arcee muttered. "Are you sure you have the right coordinates?"

"Yeah! I mean, I think so," Jack rebuked, only to meddle with the device yet again. "…I don't know."

 _"_ _Jack?"_ Lennox's voice came over the comms. _"Were you able to find the source of the frequency?"_

"It's, uh, coming from a restaurant."

 _"_ _What?"_

Jack glanced up at the building before him, covered in gothic design. There were up to a dozen iron tables filling the patio beside the street, full of lounging people, oblivious to the excitement that happened only a few streets over. The tables were covered in exotic cuisine and waiters walked to and fro. Unless the Autobot was hiding in a one-story restaurant or underneath one of the four-by-four tables, Ratchet's device was seriously glitching.

 _"_ _A Decepticon trick?"_ the old Autobot hypothesized.

"Pretty sure Megatron isn't here for the food," Jack replied.

 _"_ _Are you sure, Jack?"_ Lennox pressed.

"The signal's _there_ , but it keeps fading in and out like—"

Then Jack realized. Like a phone that couldn't get a clear signal. Like there was _interference._ The boy doubted a building could ruin something like that, and if the Decepticons were jamming it, then he wouldn't have been able to detect it at all. Then that meant—

"It's underground," gasped Jack.

 _"_ _It's_ what _?"_ Lennox exclaimed.

 _"_ _And just how does an Autobot signal appear underneath a_ city _?"_ Simmons demanded.

" _The first Autobots to arrive on your planet came eons ago_ ," Ratchet explained. _"If the signal is emitting from an ancient site, it stands to reason the city was built_ over _it_."

"Explains why the frequency was so old, and why we didn't detect it until now," Arcee concluded.

 _"_ _If it's underground, how are we supposed to get to it_?" asked Lennox.

 _"_ _You could try your luck with the sewers,"_ Epps suggested. _"I mean, if you don't mind—"_

"No," Jack interrupted. "If it's an ancient Autobot frequency, then it would have to be the older tunnels."

 _"_ _What are you talking about?"_ the NEST commander demanded.

"The catacombs. It's coming from the Paris catacombs."


	4. Chase

**I happened to get into a debate with some friends about this topic before updating this so I want to be clear and say I mean no disrespect with the events in this chapter.**

 **I wanted to write a chase scene in a busy metropolis (something I have never done before), and an logical explanation of how that would happen, without copying the events of "Tunnel Vision." I am also a huge history nerd and wanted to take advantage of the Autobots' access to locations around the world. So, Paris happened to be my solution. Also, I write almost nothing without reason, so this chapter is used for character development more than anything.**

 **That said, I hope you guys enjoy, and a warning: description of the deceased, and if that happens to bother you, you may skip this chapter**

* * *

 _"_ _Of course, an ancient alien radio channel is coming from tunnels full of dead people,"_ Simmons ranted over the coms. _"Why didn't I think of that?"_

Jack honestly couldn't tell if the energetic man was being sarcastic or not.

"And how exactly are we supposed to get down there?" Arcee asked.

 _"_ _There are entrances all around Paris,"_ Epps answered. _"Drive around a little bit and you'll probably run into one."_

"'Cons are already here, so I don't think that's a good idea," Jack replied.

 _"'_ _Cons?"_

 _"_ _I really don't like this,"_ grumbled Lennox.

"If there's a chance an Autobot is down there, we have to take it," the teenager insisted.

 _"_ _Kid, come home. Let the Autobots take care of this."_

"I'm not a kid."

 _"_ _Jack—_ "

"Let's go, Arcee."

The guardian needed no convincing, taking off with a squeal of tires and a roar of the engine. She swerved back into traffic, passing cars at a steady rate as Jack pulled up a map of the city.

"We can try one of the cemeteries," he suggested.

"Why would a burial ground lead to an underground network?" Arcee asked curiously, and Jack had to remember she had only been on Earth for a few years.

"The Paris catacombs were ancient stone mines built underneath the city," the teenager recalled his lessons from world history class. "When the cemeteries were overflowing, they moved the remains to the reinforced tunnels."

"So you think the Autobot signal's really down there?"

"The catacombs stretch _deep_ underground. Maybe we can use them to access whatever's making that frequency."

That seemed to please Arcee, the motorcycle putting in a burst of speed. Jack now eyed their surroundings, trying to find anything that would look like an entrance to an ancient tomb. They had to find it, preferably before the Decepticons put a hole in the planet.

It was then a deep, deafening roar filled the air. The panicked squeal of tires sounded, making the hairs on the back of Jack's neck stand on end. He looked over his shoulder, only to see dark blue steel, cold and menacing in the sunlight. Breakdown.

The Jeep rounded a corner, turning so sharply he skidded into the side of another vehicle. There was a terrible crash and a screech as the smaller car was batted out of the way and veered to the other side of the road. The Decepticon didn't seem to notice, tearing after the runaway Autobot with another growl of his engine. Being one of the larger vehicles on the road, Breakdown easily knocked the other cars out of his way, his only focus on his enemy.

The Autobot had already noticed the new threat, charging forward. While Knock Out was more interested in toying with his opponents in a deadly race, Breakdown seemed filled with the intent to kill. Several times the Jeep rushed forward to ram the two-wheeler. Arcee just narrowly veered out of the way, and several times she almost ran into another vehicle or a person or another solid obstacle.

The motorcycle was forced onto the sidewalk at one point, just narrowly colliding with an old man. Jack doubted the civilian heard his apology over the terrified scream. Arcee twisted back on the road, cutting off yet another vehicle, only for a dark wall to appear beside her. Rider and motorcycle cried out as Breakdown's side swiped into them. Jack gritted his teeth as pain jolted from his shoulder, but couldn't address it, holding on for dear life as Arcee desperately tried to correct.

The two-wheeler leaned over the ground again, skidding across the street to slow her speed. She used the angle to round a corner, slipping between a narrow cobblestone alleyway between two buildings. Too narrow for Breakdown to follow.

The Decepticon growled menacingly, skidding to a stop where he had lost his prey. Jack laughed for the second time that day, feeling victorious that he and his partner outsmarted yet another Decepticon. The teenager raised his hand to shoot Breakdown a gesture, only to freeze when the top of the Jeep shifted.

A long, bulky barrel appeared on the roof of the vehicle, slowly pivoting to aim down the alleyway. A hum filled the air as the barrel of the cannon began to glow menacingly.

"Uh, Arcee!" Jack warned.

The side-view mirror flashed, followed by a startled rev of an engine. Jack's body jolted and he just managed to stay in the saddle as the motorcycle shot forward, almost doubling her speed. They were only a matter of feet from the end of the alleyway. They could—

The army brat's thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched scream of discharged energon. There was a deafening clap of thunder, and Jack felt his bones rattle as a _powerful_ force slapped against him. He thought he felt Arcee swerve underneath him, but he wasn't sure. His vision was suddenly covered by a thick, dark haze. He tried to gasp, only for foul debris to invade his mouth and nostrils. The teenager hacked, doubling over Arcee's dash.

Just as suddenly his eyes were assaulted by harsh sunlight, so bright he had to squint. There was a squeal of skidding tires as the Autobot swerved around another corner.

Jack rapidly blinked his eyes, trying to make them adjust. Instead of pulling onto another street, Arcee sped down a walkway along the Seine River. The dark, murky waters cut through the heart of the city, stretching from each horizon. Jack eyed the skyline of Paris on the other side, the Eiffel Tower proudly standing over it.

Arcee didn't even slow down as a staircase came into view, her front tire colliding with the first step and momentum sent her to the next. The result was an uncomfortable, jarring jolting of the world for several long seconds, until her back tire propped onto the busy intersection above.

Instead of mixing into the flow of traffic, the motorcycle twisted around, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. It earned several startled yelps and even confused stares from the surrounding people, but Jack was too busy paying attention to his racing heart. Panting for breath, the boy folded his arms on top of Arcee's dash, burying his face against in the crook of his elbow.

It took him a moment to realized what had happened. Breakdown had _missed_.

The pair had gotten caught in the shockwave of the explosion, but Arcee had managed to use its momentum to launch herself to the other side. Part of Jack wondered how it was even possible they survived. Breakdown had them in his sights. After millennia of battles, there was no reason he miscalculated his attack. Whatever the reason, they were alive.

With a shaky sigh, Jack looked up. He was greeted with honks and growls of cars as they glided across the streets in a river of traffic. The chatter and murmur of civilians drifted across the air. But other than that, it was quiet.

"I think we lost them," the boy sighed.

He glanced back up, only to see a dangerous flash of red.

"No, I don't think so!" Arcee retorted, taking off at the same time as Knock Out, who rushed towards them.

Arcee once again raced against the traffic, cutting across several lanes while Knock Out forced his way past several unsuspecting cars. The motorcycle had only made it a block when another wall appeared from a side street. The two-wheeler veered and Jack screamed, just narrowly avoiding Breakdown's nose from ramming them. The teenager looked over his shoulder, only to see _two_ angry Decepticons on their tail.

"Oh, _come on_!" the boy growled. "Don't they ever just call it a day?"

"Well, they wouldn't be 'Cons if they were nice," Arcee quipped. "Hold on, going to run a red light."

The casual tone made Jack do a double take.

"Wait, wha—" he started, only to be cut off as the motorcycle sped forward.

Headed straight for a wall of traffic. Jack's scream reached several octaves, as Arcee sped _in front_ of an oncoming car. The rider's hearing was assaulting by the screams of tires and horns of angry vehicles, one coming so close that he instinctively raised an arm to defend himself. It only rewarded with his limb ricocheting off metal, flaring with pain. That would surely leave a bruise.

Arcee, despite her fluid speed, made to the other side none-too-gracefully. The Decepticons didn't fare much better. Knock Out veered around the obstacle course of vehicles, careful not to have another of them scrape against his delicate finish. Breakdown had the opposite approach, just barging his way through, jolting cars to the side with horrible sounds of crunching metal. The stunt certainly slowed the pursuers, allowing Jack and the Autobot to gain some distance.

"Would really like some backup right about now," the teenager drawled. Where were Sideswipe and Bumblebee? Were they lost in this metropolis, unaware that their comrades were in danger?

It didn't take long for Knock Out and Breakdown to catch up, both growling dangerously. Arcee had left the congestion of the main avenues, instead speeding down narrow, barren back roads. Allowing Jack to see a silver Corvette, racing straight for them. Sideswipe.

However, the human was only confused as he and Arcee sped towards each other, head-on. Before the army brat could work up yet another yell, the motorcycle hiked up on her back wheel. There was a tremendous jolt as Sideswipe rammed into the two-wheeler underside. The Corvette's narrow, low hood allowed Arcee to go up and over, but the momentum of the impact sent her high into the air. Jack felt his stomach fly up to his throat as the cruel grip of gravity dragged them back down.

Once they landed, the teenager heard the distinct sound of a transformation. He looked over his shoulder to see Sideswipe shifting in bipedal mode, as there was no civilians in sight. He charged toward the Decepticons, rolling his wheels back and forth like rollerblades.

It was Breakdown that met him, the mech transforming as he closed the distance between him and the Autobot. The Decepticon brought down his mighty hammer with such force that it cracked the very stone between their pedes. Sideswipe just narrowly avoided it, leaping off the ground before ricocheting off the side of the wall and scrambling onto Breakdown's back. The mech flailed, trying to pull his smaller opponent off of him, but the Autobot clung on.

" _Excusez-moi_ ," Knock Out piped as he forced his way past the quarreling pair, staying hot on the pursuit.

By now, the Aston Martin had grown bored of the chase, racing towards Arcee with deadly determination. The motorcycle narrowly avoided him several times.

"Oof!" the Autobot grunted as the sport car rammed against her side, almost colliding with Jack's leg.

The motorcycle swerved, trying to correct herself, but Knock Out would not have it. He suddenly veered, right into her back tire. Both Autobot and the human wailed as the two-wheeler spun out-of-control across the street. However, this time Arcee couldn't correct herself, as they came to a violent, sudden halt. Jack wailed as he was thrown off, landing onto the hard cobblestone in a tangle of limbs. He rolled across the ground like a ragdoll, moaning as he finally came to an unpleasant stop.

"Jack!" Arcee wailed.

"Ha!" Knock Out laughed. The teenager was only faintly aware of a purr of an engine pausing beside him. "What did I tell you? You're on the wrong side, little boy."

Jack gritted his teeth, and pressed his forehead into the ground. Pain radiated across his body in waves. He didn't think anything was broken, but hitting solid stone from over a hundred miles an hour still hurt. Suddenly there was a stir in the back of his mind. A flicker of something he could not name. Then irritation.

 ** _Learn to be more careful_**.

Jack groaned. Suddenly a high-pitched squeal of tires assaulted his hearing. The teenager looked up, only to see a flash of yellow. Bumblebee sped from around the corner, skidding across the street in a sharp turn. Ramming his side right into Knock Out.

There was a terrible crunch of metal as the sports cars collided, followed by an ear-splitting sound of something sharp slicing across metal as Bumblebee slowly pulled away. Sure enough, the spotless Camaro was tainted by dents, scratches, and even red paint transfer, but the flawless Aston Martin was worse. Knock Out's side was completed destroyed, the front passenger door even dented inwards, barely clinging onto its hinges. Immediately there was a furious roar of an engine.

"YOU RUINED MY _PAINT JOB_!"

The Aston Martin's tires spun rapidly, and the harsh smell of burning rubber struck Jack's nostrils. Knock Out pivoted around the fallen teenager in a sharp 180, tearing down the road in pursuit of the runaway assaulter.

Jack shakily got to his knees, panting. Suddenly there was a sound of a transformation behind him. A servo pressed against his chest, propping him up, while wrapping around his shoulder protectively.

"Jack, are you alright?" Arcee pressed.

"Ngh, yeah," the boy moaned as he slowly rose to his feet, his partner acting as a support.

"I'm calling Ratchet. It's dangerous for you here."

"Arcee, I'm _fine_. I—" Something caught the corner of Jack's eye, and he froze mid-sentence. "Wait a sec, over there!"

It was a small cemetery, only a couple blocks long, but it was full of pale, lifeless stones jutting out of the ground. Tombstones. The property was cut off from the street with a tall, iron fence, the metal curved in intricate designs. In the center of the cemetery was a stone tower, standing above the old graves with ancient pride. Maybe it was just old enough.

It took them a full five minutes to ensure the coast was clear before the Autobot approached the fence in her bipedal mode. She scooped up Jack in her arms, the human clinging to her neck, and vaulted over the barrier in a single bound.

She was careful to avoid the jagged lines of tombstones, even stepping over them to avoid crushing them. They were all different shapes and sizes, some fresh and others chipped and faded with age. Some names he could read clearly. Others had no names at all. There were so many and so close together, even Jack had difficulty moving past them all, and the Autobot even more so.

"Are all humans buried this way?" she asked, curious.

Jack supposed it was an odd concept to the alien. It was never a subject they really talked about, but the human had gotten the idea that burial rites were complicated on Cybertron. As far he understood, the remains of a Cybertronian were disposed based on their status in life. Those from the higher caste were sealed away, some even given great tombs. However, the careful treatment decreased as it went lower and lower on the ladder, until it reached the untouchables. Those so low, that it was considered taboo to touch their husk, even for a burial. Other lowly 'Bots, such as drones, whose only purpose was to serve, were… recycled. Jack did not ask.

The custom reminded Jack of the reason why the Great Civil War started in the first place. That Megatron wanted to challenge the Council's leadership, not for power, but for equality. To change a rigid society where not even the dead were treated the same. And as an untouchable miner from Kaon, the human could understand why Megatron was so concerned.

The pair crossed over to the tower, which Jack found was hollow inside, and just large enough for Arcee to stand to her full height. She was safe from prying eyes in here. The teenager quickly scanned the barren room, only for his eyes to look upon an old, rusted grate. It was against the wall, cutting out a perfectly rectangular black abyss.

"There," Jack murmured, stomach knotting as he crossed over to it.

The teenager peered through the bars, only to be greeted with blackness. A stale, dry scent drifted up his nostrils, but not the harsh, vile smell he was expecting.

"Alright, who wants to go down the creepy old tomb, first?" the boy asked in a flat tone.

"Allow me," Arcee offered, a blade ejecting from her arm.

Jack stepped to the side as the Autobot sliced across the chain that kept the gate locked, before prying it out of the way. The gate lead to a stone staircase, leading down into the earth until it was swallowed up by the darkness. The teenager pulled out his phone and shone the light of the screen down narrow corridor, but it did not pierce the black shroud.

Jack swallowed and dared to press his heel on the first step. Immediately the world spun, so violently that the boy swayed. He just barely managed to catch himself on the edge of the frame. He didn't even hear Arcee's shout, as memories that weren't his flashed across his eyes.

 _There were only the bowels of Kaon. Dark and desolate. He would not see the sun of the surface for vorns. Some areas were filled with acidic air. Some were filled with toxic rivers. It was inhabitable, yet it was the miners that lived here._

The boy shuddered. It had been _months_ , but Jack still remembered the images all too vividly. When the teenaged human had witnessed Megatron's memories. He had relived the tyrant's life, from his imprisonment as a slave in the mines of Kaon to his rise as Lord of the Decepticons. All thanks to the cortical psychic patch, that the Decepticons refitted for a Cybertronian to connect with a human. However, the procedure was not without consequences.

Not only had Jack entered Megatron's mind, but fragments of his ancient knowledge had _transferred_ into the younger being. What the tyrant hated most in the universe, had now become Jack's greatest fear.

"You don't have to do this," Arcee pressed.

"Yes, I do," Jack retorted.

He didn't want to be a little boy scared of the dark, anymore. He definitely didn't want to return to the Autobots empty-handed, just because of a bad dream. That's all it was. A bad dream.

Jack gripped onto the stone, breathing through his nose, until the spinning world panned back into place. Bile crept up his throat; he swallowed it back down. The boy took a heavy sigh and steeled himself. He could do this.

The pair descended into the darkness.

* * *

Jack remembered the day he first met Megatron. He had went with Arcee, Bulkhead, and Miko to explore an abandoned energon mine when they detected it was still giving off energy signatures. Only when they explored its expansive tunnel systems, they had come face-to-face with the Decepticon lord, interrupting the execution of his treacherous lieutenant, Starscream. The following battle had disturbed the unstable soil, collapsing the entire mine.

Jack had wandered the dark, twisting network of ruined tunnels of hours, but instead of finding his partner, he had found the leader of the Decepticons. Trapped, weak, and defenseless, the young human realized he was the first being in millions of years to have the opportunity to slay the monstrous tyrant. Instead Jack had spared Megatron, _saved_ him.

Now here he was, wandering the catacombs of Paris.

Like in the collapsed tunnels, Jack couldn't see a thing. Arcee had tried to illuminate the darkness with her headlights, but it did little to alleviate the oppressive darkness. The pool of light cut off at a wall of black, and went no further. That stale, musky scent filled the air, sometimes so strong it managed to make Jack cough. The walls of the narrow corridor pressed against his sides. Even though, he kept a hand on the wall, afraid that if he let go, he would vanish into the depths.

Arcee was having a little more difficulty navigating the tight tunnels. She was almost completely doubled over, wings flat on her back and balancing on her haunches. A couple times she was forced to transform into a motorcycle, rolling either beside or ahead of Jack. Sometimes the boy took a seat in the saddle. However, the smooth ground would turn into rugged terrain, obviously not repaired in a very long time.

Jack didn't know how long they traveled. It must have been only a matter of minutes, but it felt like hours had gone by. The tunnels went down and down and down, stretching on and on and on. The corridor continuously split, into two or three or four paths until the army brat could not look over his shoulder without becoming disoriented. He just hoped Arcee's internal navigation system remembered the way out of the pitch-black labyrinth.

Their only guide was the little device in Jack's hand, and he hoped at least it knew where they was going. The signal faded in and out, either detected as high-pitched beeps or static. The teenager followed the tunnels where the monitor seemed to have less difficulty reading the frequency. He hoped that meant they were getting close.

Jack was so engrossed in the monitor in his hand, he didn't notice the object on the ground until his legs tripped over it. The boy let out a wail as he fell face-first, just barely managing to catch himself. Jagged rock dug into the skin, making him hiss in pain.

Jack quickly assured Arcee when she gave a concerned rev. The two-wheeler was back in vehicle mode to squeeze through the constricting tunnels, so she was unable to stop her partner's fall. Jack climbed back to his feet, dusting himself off, and looked over his shoulder to see what had tripped him. Only to blanch.

It was thin, but long. It was a discolored, pale shade, but possessed a brown, molten color of age. A bone. A _human_ bone.

As the son of a nurse and having watched thousands of medical shows, Jack instantly recognized it as a femur of a leg. And that was it. No tibia or fibula, no tarsals or metatarsals. No ribs or skull or the rest of the skeleton. Just a single bone, utterly alone, directly in the center of the corridor.

He and Arcee had been wandering in dark, barren hallways for so long, that the boy had almost forgotten where they were, and what its main purpose was. The cold, hard reminder made his stomach knot. The tunnels of Kaon pressed against him.

"Are you going to be okay?" Arcee's voice cut through his train of thought.

Jack realized he must have failed to hide his horrified expression, and he remembered why his partner was concerned. He had told her about his phobia, brought on ever since he and his classmates went on a field trip to explore the Pentagon. It would automatically bring on a vicious panic attack.

The teenager breathed through his nose, pushing the edges of anxiety down. Knowing someone had _died_ where he stood was one thing. However, he could stand in a cemetery. There was no murder or killing there, just the deceased respectively laid to rest. Usually.

 _That's all this place is_ , Jack told himself. _It's not Kaon, it's not 9/11. It's just a really old tomb._

He and Arcee continued on. The teenager continued his vigil for the frequency, despite he was painfully aware that the tunnels were becoming less and less bare. Arcee was having difficulty maneuvering in both modes. Jack just told himself not to look down, yet when he did, he swallowed and glued his gaze back to the monitor.

Jack's mother always told him she always wanted to go to Paris, and she fully planned on dragging the boy to the city when he graduated high school. To celebrate, of course. The teenager wasn't against the idea, in all honesty. Sure, he had been to dozens of places with the Autobots, but actually exploring another culture would be fun. Jack never expected to be exploring _this_. He hadn't even been to the Eiffel Tower yet.

Yet here he was, _miles_ underneath the surface, searching for a lost alien frequency in the darkest corner of Paris. Full of not hundreds, not thousands, but _millions_ of the deceased. Discarded and forgotten. It was irony at its finest, that the City of Love was built on top of a city of the dead.

A shrill ring came from the device. Only when Jack glanced up, he was met with a solid wall. At first, he squinted in confusion, then he realized.

"It's on the other side," the boy gasped.

"Want me to make a new door?" Arcee suggested, shifting a servo into a blaster.

"That didn't work so well the last time."

The catacombs were once stone mines, after centuries of digging, pressure, and age, Jack did not want to test their stability. Especially since he had already been in one cave-in. The boy peered through the darkness, trying to find a solution that didn't involve backtracking in a labyrinth of bones. Then he saw it.

A black crevice, high up on the wall. Leading to the other side. It was as wide as Jack was, and no larger. Just enough for the lean teenager to squeeze through, but not Arcee.

"Give me a boost," said Jack.

The Autobot offered a servo that the army brat stepped into while he planted a hand on her shoulder. She gently raised him up into the air, using her other servo on his hip to keep him steady. Jack placed his feet into the crevice first, wiggling his body through the narrow gap. The boy felt empty air underneath his feet, and the room beyond was too dark to determine its contents. He sucked a breath through his teeth, and fell.

By some miracle, Jack didn't break any legs. He felt his stomach leap to his throat, but it was brief. His feet landed square on the ground and he caught himself on all fours. The army brat raised the light of his phone to observe his surroundings, only to freeze.

The floor was stripped bare, only made up of cold, hard stone. Instead of the same material making up the walls, they were rugged and uneven, asymmetrical. Almost… _organic_.

Bones.

They completely filled the walls on either side of him, and this time it wasn't just a femur. Humeri, ribs, pelvises… the list was truly endless. They were all pressed against each other, not leaving a single crack of space. But instead of forming together to create complete skeletons, the bones were spread out, placed in methodical design. Like some grotesque piece of art. Skulls interrupted the patterns, with black, empty sockets peering at the trespasser from all angles, the souls glaring at the one that had disturbed their slumber.

Jack shuddered. He tried not to think about who had taken the time to put them there, and he _definitely_ tired not to think about _where_ they had gotten so many "donations."

Every hair stood on end, and he almost obeyed the command that filled his entire being to turn around and run. Then he saw it. A raised slab of stone, a few inches above the ground. On it was a large urn, almost as tall as he and a little wider. It was a pale color, perhaps a pristine white color in its day, but now had a yellow tint of age. Splashes of dull green and blue went around the shell in curved designs. In the gloom of the room, it took several long moments for him to recognize the material making up the container. _Metal_.

Jack took several cautious steps forward, and sure enough, the rapid beeping of the monitor turned into a shrill scream. He turned it off and stuck it in his pocket, stepping onto the altar. Only as he eyed the gigantic urn, he noticed something else.

The lid of the urn was set haphazardly across the opening at the top, leaving it ajar. Scratches lay across the edges, but Jack couldn't tell from what. With a quizzical quirk of his eyebrow, the boy slid the top away. It was heavier than he thought, hitting the floor with a metallic thunk. Only when it did, apprehension crept up the boy's chest.

Considering where he was, he had no idea what exactly was inside the urn. It was definitely Cybertronian, but it was far too small to be a sarcophagus. Unless it was a midget. Or what if there was no Autobot at all? What if _more_ human remains lay within, or some demonic curse that would force Jack to live his worst nightmares?

The teenager swallowed as he balanced on the tips of his toes and peered inside. No empty eyes looked back at him, but it was still a particular sight. It was a broad, circular disk. Unlike its container, it was untouched by the elements, still having a silver sheen underneath the pale light of his phone. The metal was curved into a sharp, wicked design, almost ominous.

"Arcee! I found something!" Jack called, reaching into the urn.

The boy had to extend his arms all the way just to get a grip on the strange object. It was heavier than the lid, and he wheezed, summoning all the strength of his arms to pull it out of its confines.

"Hmm?" came his partner's curious hum, muffled by the stone wall, even as a pair of blue optics peered through the crevice. Only for there to be a sharp intake. "Jack! Put that down!"

The human immediately release his hold, having the disk slam onto the floor. "What? What is it?"

"That's the spark extractor!"

"Uh, that doesn't sound good."

"It releases a concentrated electric pulse that assaults and overloads a Cybertronian's systems, forcing the spark to shut down— _permanently._ "

That _really_ didn't sound good. But how—

"How did something like this get onto Earth?" Jack questioned, staring at the deadly weapon all the while trying to keep his distance.

"I don't know. It was lost on Cybertron eons ago. I thought it was destroyed."

Yet somehow it was in the deepest depths of the Paris catacombs, placed on its own little alter guarded by glaring skulls, sealed in a Cybertronian pod. _Wait._ Jack eyed the discarded lid. Loose, marred, _pried off_. No doubt triggering a distress beacon by the protective shell, to summon those to take it out of the wrong hands.

But the spark extractor was untouched.

Left inside, deceptively inviting, deceptively _easy_.

"We need to get out of here," Jack declared, heart jumping to his throat. "This whole thing is a set-up."

He whirled around to face Arcee, but instead something else caught his eye. The boy froze, his blood turning into ice. There was a gap in the skulls he didn't notice before, out of his sight. It was just wide enough to create another tunnel, with a yawning, black abyss. Interrupted by two, glaring optics.

He saw a solid figure shift in the darkness, drawing nearer. Jack found himself staring at the deadly gaze, but his brain found himself translating the shape as it moved closer and closer. Dark, almost black, bluish metal, rippling across a fluid, graceful frame. Claws scraped across the stone, and fangs glinted in the darkness. A narrow snout emerged, followed by a long, lithe body, ending in a sharp, wicked tail.

Jack recognized the Decepticon almost instantly. A deadly, efficient predator, thirsty for his blood.

Ravage.

* * *

 **So I hoped that cliffhanger will keep you guys around, because next week I will not be able to update. I started this fanfiction on a roll, but then summer classes caught up to me, and well, life is kicking my ass. Rest assured, this story is by no means going on hiatus, and will continue once I get my life together. See you guys then!**


	5. Battle of the Catacombs

Ravage took a step forward. Then another, and another. Jack took a step back.

"N-nice, kitty…" he cooed in a nervous, shaky voice.

Though small by Cybertronian standards, the Decepticon was as tall as him and twice as bulky. Fueled by devastating strength and speed, the cyber-cat could bat him around like a chew toy. The human had only seen Ravage in action once, when Arcee battled the mech-animal in China as the Decepticons attempted to kidnap him.

Arcee managed to hold her own, but the Autobot warned that Ravage was the oldest of Soundwave's symbiotes. It was only natural to conclude that he was the most experienced, and thus the most powerful.

But instead of focusing on the defenseless human, Ravage's snout was cocked towards the spark extractor left on the floor. The cassette hissed. Probably against his better judgement, Jack took the spark extractor, lifting it off the ground with a groan. The action seemed to agitate Ravage, the Decepticon taking a hostile step forward with a deep growl.

The human and the Cybertronian stared at each other for a moment more. Haunches raised. Jack bolted.

"Arcee!" he wailed as he dashed for the crevice, but horribly weighed down by the heavy relic in his arms.

In an unnatural speed, Ravage closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye. Jack's wail turned into a scream as fangs snatched the edge of his jeans and a vicious jerk dragged him to the ground.

"Ah! Let go of me!" the teenager seethed, sending a heel into the Decepticon's helm.

The cassette yowled in pain, flinching back as the sensitive lenses of his optic were struck. It gave Jack a chance to crawl a couple more feet until there was another growl. Ravage lunged.

The boy braced to feel razor-sharp claws to dig into his skin, but it never happened. Suddenly there was a high-pitched sound of superheated energon flying through the air, followed by another pained scream. Accompanied with a clang as Ravage slammed into the pod.

"Jack, move!" Arcee barked.

The boy did not have to be told twice. He raced forward, clambering up the wall with frantic speed. He slid the spark extractor through the crack first, which Arcee all but yanked out of his grip. He followed through, just as he heard furious hisses. Jack had to use all his upper body strength to pull himself up, until servos clasped his shoulders. And fangs snatched his ankle.

Jack let out a yelp as his was pulled in opposite directions, delicate muscles stretching uncomfortably. The teenager kicked the symbiote with his free leg, trying to free himself. Ravage was more determined than the first time, holding on like a stubborn dog, denta burrowing into his skin. Finally the boy struck his optics one too many times, the same time Arcee gave a particularly hard pull. Jack's stomach lurched as he was yanked through the crevice in a dizzying movement. Thankfully he was caught by strong arms and gently set on the ground.

Only when his feet touched the cold stone, he hissed as pinpricks of pain shot up his leg. His jeans were effectively ruined—the hem was torn to shreds, the edges stained from crimson blood. In a panic, the boy check the damage, only to find stinging cuts across his ankle. But not deep.

He jumped when suddenly a long, furious screech sounded from the other side of the wall. Then it reverberated with a metallic thud, dusts and bits of debris falling to the floor.

"That wall won't hold him for long," Arcee mused.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by muffled, high-pitched blasts of energon. The wall shuddered as dark webs of cracks formed. Not long at all.

"Time to go," the boy swallowed.

The Autobot promptly transformed, and the charge scampered on, tucking the spark extractor underneath his arm. Throwing away all caution from before, the motorcycle sped into the dark tunnels. Her headlights were the only thing lighting the dark corridors, but Arcee seemed to have memorized the catacombs already, backtracking their route. Pale stone walls and grey remains raced by in a dizzying blur.

"Ratchet, we need a groundbridge," Arcee called over the comms. " _Now_."

There was no reply. Only empty, buzzing static.

The Autobot cursed, "Scrap."

"We must be too far underground," Jack realized.

They had to get to the surface. Before Ravage found them first.

He was only reminded of the threat as a caterwaul echoed through the catacombs. The Decepticon had broken free, and the predator was now pursuing his prey.

"Must go faster, must go faster," Jack whined, looking over his shoulder, expecting to see burning red optics glaring back at him.

They didn't appear, nor in the next several tunnels. Arcee turned into a broad, never-ending room, interrupted by broad, corroded pillars. The motorcycle weaved between them easily. Maybe they lost—

The army brat flinched violently as a high-pitched, unnatural scream sounded in his ears. Claws appeared from the darkness. A rival frame slammed into Arcee's side, but the two-wheeler had learned from the previous experience from earlier that day. There was the sound of transformation and the saddle underneath Jack vanished, replaced by protective arms.

Arcee skidded across the ground, digging her heels into the stone until she came to a jarring halt. Blue optics flared, glaring at their attacker. Sure enough, the pair was greeted with Ravage, raised tail flicking in the air.

Jack's stomach knotted. The symbiote must have mapped out the catacombs before they did, using an adjacent tunnel to cut them off. But it still unsettled him, just how _fast_ the Decepticon closed the distance between them. No wonder Soundwave sent his pet to spring the trap.

"You can take him, right?" Jack asked as he stepped behind Arcee, hiding in the shadow of his guardian.

Ravage growled and there was the sound of shifting gears. Without warning, a cannon ejected on each of the cyber-cat's side. A line of razor-sharp spikes erected from his back, from the back of his helm to the tip of his tail. The end of which split into three different blades. Jack gulped. If Ravage looked dangerous before, he was menacing now.

"I can only hold him off for so long," Arcee replied grimly, her own arm-blades ejecting.

In a movement too quick to follow, the Decepticon pivoted, cannons coming to life. Rapid fire energon flew through that air, illuminating the darkness with blood-red light. Rather than avoid the hailstorm, Arcee stepped in front of her charge. Clamping down armor to close weak gaps of plating, she curled in a little ball and crossed her blades over her face.

"Get to cover!" she yelled over the ammunition assaulting her.

The army brat did not have to be told twice. He ducked behind the closest pillar, holding the wide, deadly disc to his chest. He dared to look out around the corner, to see the Autobot backing up from the onslaught, as the Decepticon confidently stepped forward. It wasn't long before Arcee's wings scraped against another solid wall.

Every instinct in Jack's body screamed to run and help. Last time he had stood on the sidelines, people had gotten killed. A rational part of him realized it would do no good. The Cybertronian's brutal strength didn't shatter his bones to pieces, if the superhot energon didn't vaporize him. Just when the teen feared for his friend, he watched as Arcee raised an arm. It shifted into a blaster, firing back at her assaulter.

There was a surprised squawk as the bolts struck Ravage's side, forcing the Decepticon to cut off his attack and lunge back. The Autobot bravely straightened and stepped forward, twin blasters raised. It was then the Cybertronians sized each other up. They circled each other like pit bulls in a fighting ring, glaring at each other, watching each other's moves. It was Arcee that broke the stalemate.

She opened fire on the little Decepticon, once again filling the catacombs with light. Ravage was a blur of movement, leaping from one side of the room to the other, constantly bouncing on his pedes, returning fire when he saw an opportunity.

It was only seconds before Jack felt the beginnings of a headache at the flashing, color-changing lights, and his ears rung with the metallic and hissing sounds. He gritted his teeth, feeling his hairs stand on end between the raging energy fields and the adrenaline that filled his veins. Jack remembered the last time he was in this position, helpless, as Arcee protected him from angry Megatron. As the mine came down on top of them.

Eventually the cassette dashed out of sight, but the teen caught a glimpse of a whip-like tail.

"He's behind the pillar!" he warned.

At the shout, Arcee promptly fired off a couple warning shots, to which Ravage replied with a volley of energon himself. The Autobot dove behind the closest cover, smoking barrels raised towards the ceiling. Jack watched through the gloom as the female ex-vented heated air.

In a flash of cobalt armor, Arcee leaped from her hiding spot, closing the distance between her and the cornered Decepticon in an impossible speed. Jack had a poor angle, but he heard Ravage's surprised screech as the two-wheeler landed a powerful kick to his jaw. The attack was forceful enough to send the symbiote through the air, but he quickly corrected himself.

Ravage used the momentum to launch himself high up onto a pillar, using his claws to attach to the hard stone. He looked over his shoulder with a hiss, looking like a demented squirrel. Before Arcee could react, the Decepticon vaulted towards the Autobot, slamming into her. Jack cringed at the crunch of plating, followed by metal-on-metal screeching and furious shrieks.

The Cybertronians became a metal ball of fangs and claws and blades. They wrestled each other across the length of the room, trying to kill and not be killed. Jack's heart jumped to his throat as the violent fight came to a jarring halt, Ravage's claws digging into Arcee's chestplate, pinning her down. Before the human could work up a concerned yell, the two-wheeler slashed her blade across her assaulter's armor.

"Jack, run!" she ordered. "Get the spark extractor out of here!"

Not waiting for a reply, she raised her knees to her chest and sent her heels into Ravage's belly. The Decepticon was sent back, but he nimbly landed on his pedes and lunged back at the recovering Autobot. The match continued.

Despite the urgency in Arcee's voice, Jack found himself planted, watching the fight like it was a train wreck. He knew he would just get killed if he interfered, but he did not want to flee while his partner fought for her life. Not when they were finally together again. He felt _useless_.

But if the spark extractor got in the Decepticons' clutches, the damage they would cause would be catastrophic. Maybe even turn the tide of the war. Jack's heart twisted. The poison in his blood was pulled towards _him_. At the same time, the army brat couldn't see anyone else die. Especially those he loved.

 _The pain of losing a loved one. That is what you fear._

Oh, how Jack wished he wasn't right. Shutting his eyes tight and gritting his teeth, the army brat summoned the will to move. He raced into the bowels of the catacombs.

* * *

Jack ran clumsily with the spark extractor in his grip, and he had to readjust his hold several times. It wasn't long at all before soreness radiated from his arms, followed by a quiver he couldn't stop. The stinging pain in his leg that turned into a persistent ache didn't help. He had almost tripped several times.

The ear-splitting sounds of battle faded away, replaced by the sounds of his shoes against the ground and his desperate panting. Along with an occasional crunch of something he did not want to think about.

The army brat didn't know how long he ran. Seconds, minutes, hours. He didn't pay attention which direction he took. Jack ran down the first tunnel that crossed his vision, the blackness and stone mixing together in a disorienting blur.

It wasn't until his arms trembled with exhaustion, his legs pulsed with pain, and his lungs burned that the army brat finally slowed to a stop. He gasped desperately for air, only to receive a mouthful of stale debris. The teenager slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He forcefully pried his fingers of the spark extractor, glancing down at his reddish hands. Jack sighed tiredly, and it was then he realized how _quiet_ it was.

The silence pressed against his ears like a deafening pressure, making him swallow uncomfortably. Where was Arcee? Ravage? How deep was he in the catacombs? Jack had heard stories, of people that went exploring in the never-ending tunnels, only to be trapped in the labyrinth of bones. What if he couldn't find the exit? What if _he_ was never found?

Jack shuddered at the thought. No. He couldn't give up. Arcee wouldn't. He had to find a way out, with or without his partner. He had to complete the mission. That's what Dad would have said.

With a grunt of effort, the teenager forced himself to his feet. Ignoring his protesting muscles, Jack took the spark extractor in his arms. He continued his subterranean journey, once again using his phone light as his only guide. Just like—

No, it wasn't the same. Megatron wasn't down here. At least he hoped. But there were Decepticons, and he had no idea where they were. And he didn't know how to escape.

 _Calm down, Jack_ , he told himself, forcing himself to practice breathing exercises. _You've been through this before, and you made it through. This time, you have an idea_.

Paris catacombs were mines, then a burial place for the dead. They built shafts, all around the city, in case of cave-ins.

There was another way out of here. He just had to find it. So, Jack trekked on. Again, it felt like hours must have passed, but his phone told it was only a matter of minutes. There was no sign of Arcee, or Ravage, or any Decepticon or Autobot. No sign of escape.

Jack felt his heart sinking, and almost fell into despair, when he felt it. He froze.

It was so subtle, he thought he imagined it. But no, it was _there_. A shift in the air, rolling across his face like a breath of _wind._ His heart quickened.

A draft. A draft meant air. Air meant—

Freedom.

Jack forced himself to focus for a minute. If he could figure out the direction where it could be coming from, he could find— _there_.

Without a moment's hesitation, the army brat continued his journey, but his steps were quicker, filled with renewed energy. He traveled _up_ the tunnel, and sure enough, the draft became stronger and stronger. He moved faster and faster.

He would make it, he would make it. Jack would found the source of the frequency, survive the Decepticon's trap, and secure the relic. Arcee would be proud of him. Megatron would likely be mad, but the human would take pleasure, knowing he outsmarted the warlord. He wouldn't be _useless_. He could—

Red optics blinked at him.

Jack froze.

Another blink.

For a paranoid moment, the teenager thought Ravage had found him, or even Megatron. But the gaze was too small to be the cyber-cat, and not menacing enough to be the tyrant. With a gulp, he angled his phone.

He was greeted with bluish-purple metal, interrupted by silver and yellow plating. Tiny claws and fangs flashed in the artificial light. A thin, metallic membrane made up spread wings, just broad enough to block the corridor. Jack first registered the shape as Laserbeak, but he realized he was wrong.

Laserbeak did not hang upside down.

A little snout was angled in his direction, lower jaw on the top and upper jaw on the bottom. Inverted audial fins twitched. Jack quickly decided it was another one of Soundwave's minions, judging not only by the small size, but how _silent_ the thing was. The army brat didn't even detect it until it revealed its presence to him.

When he saw its critical gaze lock onto the spark extractor, he possessively wrapped his arms around it. Then it spoke.

"Ratbat. Take relic," the symbiote announced, in a raspy, hiss-like voice.

"Jack. Not give relic," the teenager mocked.

Ratbat hissed. Jack found while Soundwave kept his vow of silence, his cassettes either were as silent as he, using actions rather than words, or required no filter, like a _certain_ chatterbox. The bat-like Decepticon seemed to be in the middle, speaking in fragments rather than full sentences.

"Take relic," Ratbat repeated.

"I'm not letting you have it."

"Ratbat. _Take_."

With that declaration, the symbiote flung himself at the human. Jack raised the extractor as a makeshift shield but the Decepticon was stronger than he looked. The boy was knocked to the ground, hard, but he held onto the device. He instinctively flailed his legs, but this time his kicks did not have any success.

Ratbat easily fluttered out of the way, attaching himself to the wall, using the claws on the tips of his wings and the talons on his feet. He let out a series of robotic clicks that almost sounded like bat-like chirps, but if he was speaking, Jack didn't understand a word. But instead of trying to figure it out, the boy scrambled to his feet and sped forward. Ratbat knocked him back down.

His phone knocked away, he felt rather than saw tiny claws trying to scramble for purchase on the spark extractor to force it from his grip. Jack protested by rolling on his belly, the weapon tucked underneath him. The symbiote squealed in anger.

It was then Jack heard a noise.

Metal on stone, turning of gears, plating rattling. The boy practically cried in joy, rising into a crouch.

"Arcee!"

Jack realized his mistake too late. Instead of glowing blue optics, he was greeted with red ones. The army brat reeled back, just as Ravage slowed to a halt.

The cyber-cat was covered in scrapes and scratches, energon leaking from severed fuel lines, but other than that, the Decepticon seemed unharmed. What about Arcee? Where was she? Oh, no, she couldn't be—

His thought was cut off by Ravage's demanding growl. He glared pointedly at the spark extractor. Gritting his teeth, Jack whirled around. Only to be greeted by Ratbat.

It was then the human realized he was pinned between the two Decepticons. Every time he tried to barge past Ratbat, the flyer spread his wings or slashed his talons at him. Ravage wouldn't let him by, either, jumping back and forth, weaving like a snake. Their growls and chirps almost sounded like chuckles, as they watched their prey try to escape them. It was Ravage that finally grew bored.

The symbiote stepped forward, and again. Jack stepped back until he felt Ratbat swiping his talons at him. With a yelp, he moved back forward, right into the cyber-cat. The Decepticon lunged, jaws wide to snatch the spark extractor from the human's grip.

"Another step and I activate it!" Jack yelled suddenly, raising the deadly weapon high.

The Decepticons froze.

It seemed not even the sadistic cassettes were willing to challenge the bluff. When Jack pushed it in his direction, Ravage even backpedaled with a whine. Ratbat squealed when the spark extractor was waved in his direction. At first, the boy was confused why the Decepticons were so afraid of the device they were so desperate to claim.

Then he realized they must have known what it was. On Earth, the most brutal death was a human's still-beating heart being ripped out of their body. It must have been the same on Cybertron.

"You don't like this, do you?" Jack challenged, once again holding it out between him and his harassers. The Decepticons' _flinches_ told all. The boy swallowed, when he had an idea. A bad one, but couldn't stop himself from saying, "Then let me go, and I promise this will never be used on you."

Ravage cocked his helm. Ratbat chirped.

Then Jack felt cold.

He felt it brush against his thoughts. The tingling numbness spread throughout his body, like someone had pressed against a piece of ice against the back of his neck.

Ravage and Ratbat seemed oblivious, as both kept staring warily at him. Not attacking, not aggressive. They wouldn't hurt him. They merely wanted the spark extractor, and they would leave. To make sure it could never be used against them.

Jack blinked. He pushed the intrusive thoughts away.

"Get out of my head, Megatron," he muttered under his breath.

He assumed too quickly. Typical human.

Jack flinched. _What the—_

The cold disappeared when a purr of an engine filled the tunnel. Ravage stiffened and Ratbat squawked. The army brat whirled around, just in time to see a pair of bright headlights, almost blinding. Only to disappear when the motorcycle transformed.

Like Ravage, Arcee was covered in scrapes and energon, but she had a few more dents. Including one on her helm from a vicious strike of a tail. Her optics were dim, but despite the head injury, the Autobot leaped into the air. In the limited space, she struck the ceiling, but launched off it to double her momentum.

Arcee slammed her heel on the top of Ravage's snout, clamping it shut and sending the symbiote to the ground. In the same instant, the guardian activated her cannon, aiming it at the panicking Ratbat. The flyer tried to avoid the volley of energon with dizzying aerobatics, until a precise bolt sent that bat-bot to the ground.

"That's my girl," Jack laughed, amused how easily his partner avenged herself.

Arcee didn't reply as she scooped up her charge and transformed, tearing down the catacombs again, leaving their attackers behind. It wasn't long before Arcee suddenly tilted up, along with the familiar jarring motions of a staircase.

Jack held on tight, especially when the motorcycle reached a landing that curled around to the next flight. Without slowing down, she pivoted on her front wheel and sped up the second flight of staircases. Just when the boy thought his teeth would crack, the trembling stopped. Only to turn into a loud slam as Arcee busted through a door left ajar.

Jack was assaulted by light. And a terrified scream.

The army brat was greeted with wide-eyed priests in elegant robes, but before he could reply, the two-wheeler whipped away again. They were still in a confined space, but the dim light was replaced by brilliant illumination and the stone was replaced by marble and gothic design. The boy realized with a wince that they had entered a church.

And sure enough, Arcee pulled into a broad room with a ceiling high above Jack's head. The floor was filled with rows and rows of pews, but thankfully they were empty. If they drove in during a sermon, that would have been _really_ awkward.

There were more yelps as a group of nuns walked into the main entrance, only to be greeted by a speeding motorcycle. The lithe Autobot was able to avoid the flailing mass and barged through the broad doors.

Jack gave a great gasp as he was greeted with fresh, bright, glorious air. He was assaulted by a dizzying mix of colors and sounds, but he didn't care. He was _outside._

Arcee drove away from the cathedral, most likely wanting to avoid a confrontation with an angry priest. However, she paused a few blocks away, allowing her charge to collapse against her dash.

"I am _never_ coming to Paris again," Jack declared.

"Your mother will be disappointed," Arcee quipped.

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but then the roof moved.

The boy did a double take. After the gloom of the catacombs, he wouldn't be surprised his eyes were playing tricks on him. Only when he craned his neck up, the spire of the building looming over them shifted. Then straightened.

Revealing a tall, slim, lithe figure, cobalt armor glinting in the sunlight. A black, menacing visor glared down at the unsuspecting pair. Jack's heart stopped.

Soundwave.

The Autobot was the only one in the street at the perfect angle to see the Decepticon, who was tucked between the jagged roofs, form crouched low. His dark color scheme blended into the cool shades of the gothic building almost perfectly. Jack did not dare to move or breathe, and Arcee was just as still. Soundwave resumed his statue-like pose.

They regarded each other, for a long, agonizing moment. The army brat felt his heart beating faster and faster with each moment. What was Soundwave doing here? It wasn't like him to near humans, or engage in the enemy in the first place. As Megatron's surveillance chief, the third-in-command spent most of his time monitoring operations from the _Nemesis._

Usually he sent his cassettes in his stead. Then Jack realized. The _cassettes._

The Decepticon was possessive over his pets, and being separated from them for so long must have made even Soundwave anxious. The fact he was hiding out of sight rather than engaging told the spymaster had come to monitor the situation, and ensure the completion of the mission. And the safety of his little ones.

Jack was torn from his thoughts by a chirp, and glanced up to see the fluttering form of Ratbat, free from the catacombs. He happily flapped circles around Soundwave, while another shadow scampered onto the roof. Hindered by his injuries, Ravage was not as graceful as before, kicking off a loose piece onto the street below, but he stayed low and out of sight. Then the army brat watched with fascination as the symbiotes changed shape when they lunged towards their master.

Ravage latched onto Soundwave's back as a bulky piece of armor. Ratbat attached to his stomach, right underneath a particular chest plate—Laserbeak. Despite being reunited with his cassettes, the surveillance chief seemed impassive as ever, merely glancing over his shoulder at the peering human and the Autobot.

Jack shuddered. An Autobot, that betrayed him, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. Just like they betrayed Soundwave. Leaving him to rust in Polyhex, when he already proved his worth as its Champion.

The blood in the human's veins froze. It was then he became aware of the cold poking at his thoughts. Twisting them.

 _No way_ ―

 _You will learn in time there is nothing that is impossible for a Cybertronian._

Jack almost screamed. Instead, he was frozen by the frigidness that had encased his mind. Created by another's thoughts. Soundwave.

Soundwave was a telepath.

A chill went down the boy's spine. He could enjoy his little victory. In the end, it would be the Decepticons that would win the war.

The cold presence retreated once again, leaving Jack gasping and shivering, despite the warm sun. He barely registered a groundbridge yawning open beside the glaring Decepticon. Without a sound, Soundwave stalked through, vanishing from sight. The portal snapped close.

* * *

Knock Out just made things too _easy_. Like Bumblebee predicted, the Decepticon raced after the Autobot to avenge his ruined finish. He was certainly faster than the scout anticipated, and it wasn't as easy as he first thought. But at least Jack and Arcee were in the clear.

Thanks to his hobby of street racing, Knock Out was easily able to weave between the slow-moving vehicles and cut the sharpest of corners. However, Bumblebee quickly realized the Decepticon never experienced rush hour in a major city. The Aston Martin was swallowed up by the congestion, filling Bumblebee's comms with vicious threats and curses.

That should take care of it. Sideswipe had harassed Breakdown enough to force the Jeep into retreat, while Arcee called in, reporting that she and Jack were entering the catacombs. There had been radio silence ever since. Bumblebee could only hope his friends were alright, but told himself that he had no reason to worry.

Arcee could handle herself, and Jack was a resourceful human. They seemed to find trouble wherever they went, but they seemed to be able to always get out of it. Bumblebee wished he was that lucky.

Ancient buildings towered over him, and the alien couldn't help but admire them. The human architecture was nothing like on Cybertron, which was full of great, flawless towers, stretching so tall they scraped across the sky—

There was a screech of tires as a human vehicle skidded to a sudden halt. Automatically Bumblebee's frame locked up. That sounded like—

 _Shells of superheated energon rained down from the sky. The balls of fire tore holes in towers, collapsed bridges, destroyed facilities, slaughtered Autobots and Decepticons alike. They were not discriminatory._

 _Bumblebee was not able to escape the blast range in time._

 _Sharp, deadly, evil claws found his throat. Vermillion, blood-thirsty optics glared into his cerulean, fearful but defiant ones. As if trying to look into his soul. As if trying to find his secrets._

 _No, he couldn't tell. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't—_

A piercing ring cut off the memory purge. Bumblebee returned to the present with a jolt, spark pulsing rapidly. He forced himself to slow to a stop a red light, despite every protocol in his body was demanding for him to make a break for it. The Autobot forced heated air to expel from his vents.

It was just a corrupted memory file. He was safe. _He_ could never hurt him again.

Another ring. Bumblebee activated cooling protocols and addressed the alert. He almost blared his horn in excitement.

The frequency!

He found it! It was only a couple blocks away. He could retrieve the relic, and Optimus would be proud of him. He could prove he wasn't just some youngling. That he wasn't useless.

He was greeted with a wide plot of land, full of gravel and dirt. Odd-looking human machines filled the lot, along with the metal skeletons of buildings. A construction site. The Camaro pulled through the open gate, slowly and cautiously. He kept his sensors on the highest setting, vigilant for any threats.

Although he couldn't detect any 'Cons, that didn't mean there wasn't one hiding somewhere. However, only the inviting, easy signal greeted him. Bumblebee traced it to the center of the abandoned site, devoid of cars and humans. Seeing the coast was clear and preferring to stay on his guard, the scout transformed into his bipedal mode.

It certainly wasn't what he was expecting. It was an odd little device. It didn't look like anything Bumblebee had seen on Cybertron. In fact, it almost looked—

The device let out a shrill scream. The scout flinched, servos flying to his audios. He instinctively reared back.

Bumblebee was not able to escape the blast range in time.

A shockwave of electricity assaulted the scout, invading his systems. It _stung_ , white-hot pain coursing through his neural net, spreading to his spark. A shut down sequence started without his permission.

The world went black.

* * *

 **So I was thinking about having all the cassettes in a hectic battle, but realized introducing Ratbat was more fun. He's a mix of his G1 and TFA continuities. His design is based on Animated, while his color scheme is from G1. Meanwhile Ravage is a mix of his G1 and Bayverse designs.**


	6. Stolen

**So a lot of borrowed quotes in this chapter, but this is probably the only chapter heavily based on the show. Hope it doesn't make it boring.**

* * *

The groundbridge snapped close as Jack and Arcee rolled into the main hanger of Diego Garcia. Only to be greeted by Lennox, arms crossed over his chest and lips pulled in a frown.

"I thought we agreed that you would evac if there was any trouble," the lieutenant colonel scolded, his tone sounding like an annoyed parent.

"Everything was fine," Jack replied hastily. Aside from the half a dozen panic attacks, of course.

"Yeah, I got fifteen car accidents that say otherwise."

Oops.

"Uh, we secured the package," Jack tried.

He lifted the spark extractor from underneath his arm, showing it to the NEST commander. Lennox cocked a curious eyebrow, but before he could make a comment, another voice cut him off.

" _Hello,_ beautiful, and what's your name?" Simmons purred, materializing beside Jack, greedy hands already reaching out for the device.

"It's called a spark extractor," the teenager answered, pulling it out of the man's reach.

The former Sector Seven operative's mesmerized eyes were locked onto the weapon, like a kid walking by a candy store.

"Oh, that's fancy," the man crooned. "How do you use it?"

Arcee growled in warning.

"What? For research purposes! Do you imagine if the boys at Sector Seven had something like this?"

"Thank God they didn't," Lennox muttered, walking forward and gently taking it from Jack.

The tall and muscular ex-Ranger had a better time handling the broad weapon than the teenager did.

"Rather unassuming, isn't it?" Lennox commented.

"Bear in mind that looks can be deceiving, commander," Ratchet said as he came up from behind the man, gently plucking the device from his hold. While it took the humans two hands to carry it, it only took the Autobot a single servo. "For this device is a one of the most dangerous weapons in our history."

"So when can I look at it?" Simmons piped.

The medic ignored him as he sauntered away, ignoring the man following on his heels. The other humans and Arcee trailed behind.

"So what's it doing on Earth?" Lennox questioned.

"That, is the question," Ratchet replied, settling by the computer station and setting the device underneath a scanner.

"Someone was trying to get to it," Jack reported. "It was in a Cybertronian pod or something, but it was forced open."

"'Cons?" Lennox guessed.

"It explains why they were waiting for us when we arrived," Arcee answered.

"But if they found the spark extractor before us, why didn't they take it when they had the chance?" Jack argued.

"They were likely using it as bait."

Jack shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Several gazes blinked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" Lennox asked.

The boy paused, trying to recall everything that happened in the catacombs. The darkness had gone by in a blur, and running for his life was even more so. However, his encounter with Ravage and Ratbat was clear. Both cassettes were _hesitant_ to near him, their optics never leaving the spark extractor. When Jack had threatened them with it, it sent the fearsome Decepticons reeling.

"It was like they were _scared_ of it," the army brat observed. Then he realized something. "Ravage didn't even approach me until I took it. I don't think they even wanted a fight."

Ratchet scoffed. "They are barbarians, _of course_ they wanted a fight. Why else would they engage you?"

"They just wanted the spark extractor."

Jack's tone was more defensive than he intended, and was surprised when the old Autobot blinked. However, Arcee was more curious, asking, "What makes you so sure about that?"

The teenager remembered the invasive thoughts that were not his. "I just… know."

"So then do you know who _did_ pop it open?" Simmons inquired, arms crossed over his chest.

"It was probably cataphiles, people that explore the catacombs," hypothesized Lennox.

"And they just left it there?"

"Cataphiles usually aren't vandals. They probably didn't want to mess with it."

It was heavy, and Jack doubted a pawn shop would buy a spark extractor.

"Who would just leave behind a perfectly good piece of alien technology?" Simmons practically wailed, causing Lennox to shake his head.

"It explains why the beacon was triggered," Arcee hummed.

"Then why were Knock Out and Breakdown there?" the teenager asked.

It was then heavy pedes neared, causing the floor to tremble slightly beneath their feet.

"It stands to reason the Decepticons intercepted the transmission," Optimus hypothesized, "and Megatron sent his subordinates to retrieve the relic. It was likely he was unaware of the pod's contents. We were fortunate, that such a deadly device did not fall into his servos."

"Let me guess: it's a Decepticon superweapon, isn't it?"

"No." Jack blinked at that, and only for his skin to crawl when the Prime explained, "In the early days of the War, Zeta Prime sanctioned the development of Class-A weapons to use against Decepticon insurgents."

The army brat frowned at the name. "Oh, that aft."

Ratchet stiffened, turning from his work to scold, "Zeta's methods may not have been conventional, but he was still a Prime."

 _A False Prime_ , Jack thought bitterly, but bit his tongue.

Zeta Prime was the head of the High Council before the Civil War, and acted as leader of the Autobots when fighting broke out across Cybertron. Instead of trying to settle tensions or negotiating, the mech escalated the war by vowing to eliminate his enemy. By any means necessary.

The images were still vivid in Jack's mind, of the monster torturing, murdering, and desecrating Decepticons. The paranoid leader even turned his wrath on his own troops, when he began to fear of rebel sympathizers. Only to cut his own forces by half. He was a Guardian Knight, meant to safeguard his people, but he merely used his title to sate his own lust for power. He even managed to make Megatron look like the better option.

"Here," Ratchet suddenly announced, having the group turn to the screen. It showed a diagram of the spark extractor, zoomed in on a portion of the device, stamped with the Autobot emblem. "The source of the ancient frequency we detected."

"An Iacon homing beacon," Optimus hummed.

"What's an Autobot locator doing on _that_?" Arcee asked.

"The weapons were sealed within the vaults below Iacon, which was both a cultural center and a stronghold. The capital was raided when Autobot troops were at their nadar. In anticipation of being overrun by enemy forces, these weapons were jettisoned off-world to keep them far from Decepticon reach."

"Clearly, the beacon was added as a safety measure should the weapons ever be found by an undesired party," Ratchet observed.

"So… what do we do with it?" Jack asked, eying the evil device apprehensively.

In the corner of his eye, Lennox and Optimus exchange knowing glances.

"We have a bunker in the States, completely undetectable," the lieutenant colonel reported. "We'll transport it there."

"You're not even going to _try_ to study it?!" Simmons cried.

Before anyone could retort, there was a shout from the other side of the hanger.

"Lennox! Ratchet!" It was Epps, basically sprinting towards his commander. When the man turned to his friend, the Master Sergeant was already twisting around on his heels, despite the fact he was sweaty and panting. "We got a problem. Like, a Bumblebee-sized problem."

Immediately Jack felt confusion and concern, and judging by the worried expressions of the others, they were in a similar state. Bumblebee? Had something happened? Was he injured? Chest knotting, the teenager trailed after the migrating group. Raf would have a meltdown if he knew his treasured partner was hurt, or worse.

Despite his old age, Ratchet was two paces ahead of everyone, even Optimus, quickly making his way to the group of huddled Autobots. In the center was Bumblebee, but Jack immediately could tell something was wrong.

The young Autobot's armor was clamped down defensively and in pain, door-wings flat on his back to make himself as small as possible. His blue optics were oddly dim, and even with his mask, he looked confused and fearful as the 'Bots surrounded him. Then Jack glanced at his torso. On the scout's side, was a long cut across the gap of armor, blue energon leaking profusely from it. It must have been deep.

Bumblebee had both his servos over the wound, both trying to stop the flow and hide it from his comrades, who were peppering him with questions.

"What do you _mean_ you can't transform?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

The humans froze. What.

The young scout looked pitiful. _"I_ can't. _Th-the protocols are still there, but whenever I try to activate them—"_

There was an awful, grating noise, like gears grinding against each other. It sounded like a car with a failed engine. Jack watched with horrified fascination, as Bumblebee's armor rattled, trying to shift into place, but did not move. Did not transform.

Ratchet wasted no time. "Get him to medbay, stat! All of you, out of here!"

At his waving servo, the curious and concerned Autobots reluctantly dispersed, while the medic practically dragged a shivering Bumblebee to a side room that acted as a makeshift medical bay. A few mechanics stepped forward, but Ratchet dismissed them as well, pushing Bumblebee onto a medical berth.

The medic immediately set to work, activating a nearby terminal and attaching monitors. Ratchet raised an arm, emanating a light that encased the injured scout.

"Wh-what's wrong with Bumblebee?" Jack dared to ask.

"Likely his T-cog was damaged in combat," the old Autobot replied, in the calculating, disconnected tone of a doctor.

"It that like a T-bone?" Simmons asked.

"Not exactly," Arcee answered. "It's the organ that allows us to scan vehicles and transform."

Jack frowned. If it was Bumblebee's T-cog, did that mean— Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by horrified gasp.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet exclaimed, his optics wide and bright, intake agape. He even took a stumbling step back, like he was going to keel over. "Bumblebee's T-cog isn't damaged, it's _missing_!"

Jack didn't think he heard the old Autobot right. _Missing_? H-how was that even _possible_?

The boy stood frozen with shock, the others mimicking him. Even Optimus's narrow optics widened, his broad frame going unnaturally stiff. Bumblebee just stared up at his doctor with unveiled horror. The shivering increased.

 _"_ _N-No, no, that can't be right!"_ the young Autobot denied. _"Check again!"_

Instead of complying, Ratchet looked at the ghastly wound on Bumblebee's side, already reaching for a welding tool. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"It has been removed," the medic stated grimly.

"H-How can that be?" Lennox was the one to ask, stepping forward. His strong, authoritative voice had broken in an uncertain stutter.

Jack felt bile rise up in his throat. Knocked unconscious and had his most valuable organ _ripped_ out of him. It was like tearing out someone's kidney. The teenager couldn't imagine something so cruel and disgusting. However, his mind was already clicking information into place.

"Knock Out was after him," the army brat remembered. "You think he did this?"

 _"_ _No! I lost Knock Out!"_ Bumblebee retorted, voice still high with panic. _"It was some weird device! It stunned me, and then—"_ There was a long buzz of distress that Jack could not understand. The teenager assumed not all sounds had to be actual words. _"Oh, it was a Decepticon trap! I fell for it!"_

"Why would the Decepticons steal a T-bone, I mean, uh, bolt? What was it again?" Simmons asked.

"T- _cog_ ," Ratchet corrected. He sighed. "Megatron has been known to raise the undead, I suppose it is not unfathomable even he would stoop to this level. A twisted sense of revenge, most likely."

Revenge? What did that mean?

 _"_ _Scrap this!"_ Bumblebee cursed, whacking away the welding tool before the wound was even sealed closed. He forced himself into a sitting position. _"Megatron wants a piece of me? Let's see how chatty he is without_ his _voice!"_

He moved to jumped off the berth, but he was stopped by a sturdy servo on his chest.

"Bumblebee, please, calm yourself," Optimus hummed, gentling pushing him back down. "You are not presently equipped to handle this."

 _"_ _You don't know what it's like, Optimus!"_ Even Jack blinked at the sharp ring and blazing optics, surprised that the loyal Autobot would so blatantly snap at his Prime. _"To have a piece of your body ripped_ out of you _!"_

"I _do_ know what it's like to lose a vital part of oneself. And, as a result, I know the value of putting one's faith in the strength of those around you."

Despite his subordinate's frantic rage, Optimus spoke like a calm and wise sage. Bumblebee's door-wings flattened again, helm bowed low like a hurt puppy. The Autobot leader gently but firmly took a hold of the young Autobot's shoulder in comfort.

"Can't you just make a new… cog-thing?" Simmons asked.

Only at his words, Bumblebee glanced down at the human like he had grown two heads.

 _"_ _Don't you humans know anything?! You can't just—"_

The string of clicks and beeps broke off in a wail, the scout burying his face in his servos before collapsing back on the medical berth.

"What? What'd I say?"

"A T-cog is a bio-mechanism, not a scrapyard find," Ratchet explained in a scolding tone. "If it were that easy, don't you think I would have replaced Bumblebee's voice box by now?"

Being reminded of his crippled state seemed to stir the scout from his depressed stupor.

 _"_ _I can't speak, I can't transform!"_ he ranted, servos curling into fists. _"I'm useless!"_

He slumped dejectedly, curling in on himself. Ratchet clasped a servo over his shoulder. It was a rare, oddly soft gesture for the grumpy, war-hardened medic.

"You are not useless, Bumblebee," Optimus Prime retorted calmly. "We vow we will do everything in our power to make you whole again."

"A'right, a'right," Bulkhead spoke up from where he was watching the horrifying scene by the edge of the room. "I say none of us transform until Bumblebee gets his cog back."

"Your spark's in the right place, Bulkhead," Arcee sighed, even as she shook her helm in defeat, "but I don't think now is the time to be limiting ourselves."

"Not with Megatron potentially seeking other doomsday devices," Optimus spoke up.

The statement made Jack swallow nervously. There was no way of knowing how many deadly weapons—both Autobot and Decepticon—were sent off of Cybertron in the final days of the war. And aside from homing beacons that may or may not be detected, there was no way to track them all. How many more had been captured by Earth's gravitational field? Jack did not doubt Megatron would pass up the opportunity to get his claws on weapons of mass destruction.

 _"_ _I-I'm going for a walk,"_ Bumblebee suddenly spoke up, but even in that prosthesis, it sounded pitifully small and weak.

Despite he had just finished sealing the scout's wound, Ratchet did not stop him. With a nod of approval and an order not to stray too far, the Autobot slowly and carefully rose to his pedes. An arm still around his violated abdomen, Bumblebee trudged out of the medical bay, looking small as possible.

"Taking 'transform' out of a Transformer? That's just wrong," Epps commented drily.

"Yeah, I guess nothing's too low for Megatron," Lennox muttered.

Jack's stomach twisted. But Megatron was a Transformer himself. He was no ghoul, to rob the vital organ that made Cybertronians such a mighty and proud race.

Poor Bumblebee. First he lost his voice, something he could function without, but barely. And it was clear even to the human how sensitive the young Autobot was about it, and how frustrating it could be. Especially if he couldn't replicate the sounds of his little friends, or if one of his comrades misunderstood his meaning because of his lack of inflection.

"What did happen to Bumblebee's voice box?" Jack asked, though hesitantly.

"It was…" Ratchet trailed off, fingers pausing over the keys of the terminal, although all it showed was Bumblebee's scan. Perhaps the doctor was trying to find the slightest flaw to prove that he was wrong.. "…Severely damaged in battle."

"How?"

"How do you think? Tragically." At the human's quizzical glance, the medic told, "It happened at Tyger Pax. Our brave scout was captured by Megatron's forces and interrogated. But he refused to provide intel, and paid a grave price for his courage." Jack's chest knotted, knowing what happened next, while Ratchet let out a heavy sigh. "Bumblebee was left for scrap. But Autobots troops found him and evacuated him to a triage facility, where a field medic was able to stabilize his condition."

It took almost a full minute for Jack to process the tale, the only sound being the tapping of the keys.

"So… we owe Bumblebee's life to that field medic," the boy digested.

"That's… one way of looking at it, I suppose," Ratchet confessed, but his tone held no optimism. "Though, the medic… could have done better."

Before Jack could reply, he heard sharp yells drifting from the main lobby of the hanger. He glanced over curiously, but before anyone could ask, a harsh, loud voice sounded.

"Where are they?! I want to talk to them!"

Lennox frowned and muttered, " _Great_."

He and Epps exchanged glances before they both turned around towards the entrance. Meanwhile, Arcee and Bulkhead stiffened and their optics locked on Jack. The boy gasped when in a blink of an eye, the metal giants had him squished between them, out of sight. The army brat quickly realized why, as he dared to look out from his guardian's leg with a single eye.

He was greeted with a man in a flashy, perfect black suit, dark hair cut short to his scalp and wiry glasses balancing on his nose. Theodore Galloway. The Autobots' government liaison.

The security advisor walked in a brisk, stomping pace, practically storming up to the metal beings that were almost ten times his size.

"You made a _mess_ in Paris," Galloway accused,. The man seemed undeterred as he paused underneath the giant's shadow. "Keep a low profile, that was our agreement. Instead I have fifteen car accidents, eight people in the hospital, and one man in critical condition!"

Jack winced. Did they really cause that much damage? Everything had gone by in a blur.

"Sir—" Lennox tried, even stepping forward, but Galloway cut him off.

"And let's not get started on a little video that popped up on the Internet today. Showing two _robots_ , having all-out brawl in a little plaza by some poor woman's pastry shop?" The man glared up at Optimus Prime, but the Autobot leader seemed unfazed. Galloway continued, emphasizing each syllable like he was reading to a child learning a new language, "Keep your lackeys in order. Is that really _so_ hard?"

The Prime was silent throughout the epic rant, waiting patiently for the man to finish. When it seemed he was done, the Guardian Knight spoke slowly and calmly, "Our forces were ambushed by Decepticon troops when arriving in the city. My subordinates reacted accordingly, but due to their pursuer's aggression, I am afraid there were consequences."

"That, or you _robots_ can't keep up with human laws?"

Automatically Jack felt several of the Autobots bristle, including Arcee, whose leg he was clinging on to. He was well aware the sentient beings took offense to the term. Robots were created, used, and thrown away. Like tools. Cybertronians were no such thing.

Lennox dared to take another step forward, trying to defuse the situation before one of the metal warriors failed to reign in their anger. It turned into a mistake, as Galloway turned his wrath on the poor commander.

"And _you_. Your job is to keep this sort of stuff from happening!"

The lieutenant colonel _stuttered_ , freezing under the burning glare. Jack realized why. It was Lennox's duty to ensure the Autobots were accompanied by NEST forces, and dismantling tense situations. However, anything the commander would admit would incriminate himself. Jack swallowed. Suddenly the image of Fowler flashed before his eyes, as the man was dragged away in handcuffs. No, not again.

"It was me!" the teenager announced loudly, stepping out of his hiding place.

" _Jack_!" Arcee hissed, but the human ignored her.

He bravely walked forward, raising his head up high as he confessed, "I was the one that went with the Autobots to Paris. It was all my idea."

He was stretching the truth a little, but sure enough, that was all Galloway needed. The security advisor stared at him, several expressions crossing his face in a matter of a couple seconds. Shock, confusion, then fury.

"Wait a second, you're one of the kids," the man recognized. "I thought I specifically had you banned from the base."

Jack shrugged. "You didn't ban me from Paris."

He stood his ground as Galloway stormed over to him, already onto his next rage. "Oh, got a smart-ass over here, huh?" He stopped in front of the army brat, glaring down at the boy like he was an insignificant child. "That's what's wrong with kids these days. No _respect_."

Jack had to bite his tongue from saying he knew much more about respect than the man did.

"And what is this, some sort of playdate with the robots?" the security advisor hissed accusingly, throwing his hands in the air. Before the teen could give another smart reply, the man rounded on Lennox once again. "Colonel Lennox, who gave this boy clearance to be here?"

"Uh, how about Optimus Prime?" Jack offered sarcastically. "When he touched down in my hometown and I had 'Cons shooting at me? Or when I was kidna—"

A firm servo seized his shoulder, squeezing it in warning. Jack reluctantly clipped his mouth shut, biting his tongue, but could not hide the glare at the man before him. Galloway was completely ignoring him.

"We cannot entrust national security to _teenagers_ ," the government liaison ranted. "I thought we had already gone over this."

Jack saw Lennox defensively square his shoulders, as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. His jaw even clenched as he gritted his teeth to keep his silence. The teenager realized it must have hurt the NEST commander's dignity to be scolded on his own base, in front of his own men. However, Galloway spoke on behalf of his Commander-in-Chief. Defying the security advisor would be defying the President of the United States. Finally Lennox was spared from further humiliation as Galloway turned his attention back to the army brat.

"I don't _care_ who you are," the man dismissed as he stepped closer to loom over the boy, even though there was only a couple inches between their heights. "If you breathe a word of what you see in here, you'll do time for treason, do you understand me?"

Jack sucked in a breath, curling his hands into fist. He wasn't going to be some toy soldier to stand at attention to the man that stole his friends. Glaring, the boy growled lowly, "I take my orders from the Autobots. I know them, I don't know you."

Galloway's nostrils flared like a raging bull, obviously not to used to dealing with open defiance. It gave the teenager a twisted sense of pleasure. Megatron would be proud.

The government liaison glared back, hissing dangerously, "Oh, you _will_." He glanced back at Lennox. "Colonel, escort this boy off of my island."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant colonel replied through gritted teeth.

Epps and Simmons weren't trying to hide their detest, the sergeant glaring at the man with his arms folded over his chest and the agent bristling defensively. Galloway didn't even notice the at least a dozen glares, instead whirling on his heels and strutting out of the room. Likely to find another victim to chew out.

"I do not like that dude," Epps grumbled under his breath.

"Orders are orders," Lennox retorted, reluctantly adding, "No matters where they come from." He turned to Ratchet. "Ratchet, open a groundbridge, please."

Jack couldn't help balling his hands into fists. "Just like that?"

The ex-Ranger frowned at him. "You knew you couldn't stay here, Jack." The boy clenched his jaw, but before he could say anything, the commander turned to Epps. "Rob, take him—"

"I'll take him," Arcee volunteered suddenly.

"Arcee—"

"I'll drop him off by his house and leave. No one will see me. It will only be a few minutes."

Lennox glanced in the direction Galloway stormed off in, as if expecting the man to reappear in another rage. When he didn't, the commander let out a tired sigh.

"A _few_ ," he relented, but his tone held no room for negotiation.

With that, Ratchet began to input coordinates into the computer. Jack just bit his lip, his day effectively soured. He was finally with his friends, his family, who he hadn't seen in months. And now they were being taken away again. The servo on his shoulder squeezed, almost comfortingly. He glanced up to see Arcee, her cool blue optics looking down on him. She gave that rare, honest smile, the one that told him that everything would be okay.

Jack didn't see how. His guardian promptly transformed, and the boy had to summon the will to move his feet. Lost in his self-pity, he barely noticed a young, somber private trudge up to Lennox. The commander cocked his head as his subordinate muttered in his ear. The army brat did not miss how the man's muscles suddenly went unnaturally stiff.

Simmons saw, too, noticing the lieutenant colonel's downcast expression.

"What? What happened?" the Sector Seven agent demanded.

Lennox only frowned and avoided looking at his comrade, or even at the brilliant groundbridge that yawned open. Jack settled in the saddle, Arcee's engine purring, one eye glancing at the commander. He had to strain to hear the man's words. He wished he didn't.

"Torres didn't make it."

* * *

Jack's heart was heavy as the groundbridge closed behind them. Arcee slowly pulled into a dirty alleyway between two buildings. The sky had darkened considerably as evening descended, with only a line of lingering purple on the horizon. It wasn't too late, but thankfully late enough there weren't that many people out. Most residents of Jasper retreated to their homes when night descended. The little desert town wasn't exactly the entertainment capital of the world.

Still, Arcee stuck to the speed limit as she turned onto the street, which was a first for her. Jack didn't pay attention, instead playing the day's events over and over in his head. NEST, Paris, the catacombs, the cassettes and Soundwave, Bumblebee, and Galloway. And the fallen soldier, Torres, killed by energon poisoning. Another father, brother, son, that wouldn't be coming home.

It was hard to believe he had gone to one side of the planet to the other, and it all happened within twelve hours. The adrenaline had long left his veins, leaving the boy sore and exhausted and eager for the long day to be over with.

He didn't even notice when Arcee pulled up to his home. The windows were still blacked out and the driveway was empty, telling that Mom wasn't home yet. Probably working another late shift at the hospital. It seemed Jack had the house to himself. Again.

"I'm sorry," his partner suddenly spoke up in an impossibly soft voice, interrupting his thoughts. Jack couldn't remember the last time proud Autobot apologized. "I didn't mean to decimate your birthday."

"No, it's… it's fine," the teenager brushed off lamely, not knowing what else to say. He knew Arcee had only meant good intentions, and it was not her fault things had turned out so horribly. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.

"I just assumed you would like a change of company."

Jack's heart twisted at the choice of words. He knew it was probably unwise, but couldn't stop himself from blurting, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"About what?"

"That I'm hanging out with Megatron." The motorcycle went silent then, not even her engine humming. The human realized he had said the last thing she wanted to hear. When she didn't reply, he added hesitantly, "...You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"No, Jack," she refused quickly. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just…" She broke off with a static-filled sigh, and tried again. "I can't blame you for making your own decisions."

"But you're my guardian—"

"And I failed to protect you."

"No, you—"

Jack didn't have a chance to retort, as the Autobot snapped, "Look at today. You were put in danger because of me. I couldn't hold off Ravage and he almost got to you."

The boy swallowed, remembering his close encounter with the deadly cassettes. But they didn't hurt him…

"…It's probably better this way."

"Better?" Jack sputtered. "How is not seeing you _better_?"

"You were never supposed to know about us. When you learned about us, it was an _accident_." The teen remembered that fateful day, when the motorcycle had crashed in him, so desperate to escape her pursuers, she didn't even notice the unaware pedestrian. "I was the one that brought you into this war when it's not even yours. If Galloway is right about anything, he's right that you aren't safe with us. The Decepticons changed the rules when they tore out Bumblebee's T-cog today. I don't know what they'll do when you are put to into play, regardless of whatever is going on between you and Megatron."

Jack's stomach twisted, the scout's ghastly wounded flashing before his eyes. Then a question.

"Ratchet said Megatron did it for revenge," he recalled. "What did he mean by that?"

Another static-filled sigh. "I supposed you wouldn't know about that. On Cybertron, facilities that were understaffed or experiencing… _problems,_ would remove the T-cogs of their workers."

Jack wasn't sure he heard her right. "You mean—"

"Yes. It was a common practice among the lower castes, especially miners, that worked in poor conditions and had more numbers than the guards could keep track of."

The teen found bile rising to his throat. The vital essence of a Cybertronian ripped out of them, so they couldn't scan, transform, or carry weapons. They could not flee or fight, or even defend themselves from their abusers.

"But that's… like slavery."

"…In a way."

Then Jack registered a single word. "If they did it to miners… Do you mean… Megatron?"

"Yes," the Autobot answered, but her tone was reluctant and tired.

"But he can transform! You said you can't just replace a T-cog, so how can he do it if his was destroyed?"

"It's possible to find a donor, but finding a compatible biomechanism is harder than it is on your world. But for Megatron, a… _scientist_ was able to get him a shiny brand new one. Obviously, the operation was a success." When Jack did not know how to reply, Arcee continued, "The removal of T-cogs from the lower castes became one of the Decepticon's main arguments—that it was cruel and unjust. It seems Megatron changed his mind."

Jack swallowed, trying to digest the newfound information. Megatron had shown him that the Golden Age of Cybertron was not without its corruption and gruesome secrets, but he didn't realize _how_ bad it really was. No wonder the Decepticon cause gained so many followers, but fueled by eons of resentment and oppression, it turned a revolution to a very violent and very nasty civil war.

"But if he protested it, why would he—"

"I don't know. Maybe war changes a mech. Maybe you can ask him yourself."

Jack flinched. "Arcee—"

"You should go, Jack," his partner interrupted. "Our 'few minutes' is up."

"When will I see you?" the boy couldn't help but ask as he slowly, reluctantly, stepped onto the driveway.

Arcee was silent for a long time, then, "I think it's best we don't see each other again."

"'Cee, please, don't—"

"Goodbye, partner."

* * *

* **eating chips ignoring over forty glares* Oh, yeah, almost forgot. Megs is in the next chapter.**


	7. In the Arms of a Demon

Jack's head was in a fog when he stepped into his home. By now his entire body was radiating with soreness, and his only thought was slipping into his warm, comfortable bed. And forget that this day ever happened.

The entire house was shrouded in darkness, the boy just barely making out the silhouettes of furniture. Not bothering with turning on the lights, he trudged to his room, head hanging low. His private sanctuary was as black and quiet as the rest of the house. The teen moved to flip the light switch, but a deep, gravelly voice greeted him.

"You were with the Autobots."

Flinching slightly, the army brat turned to see blood-red optics staring at him. It was then his brain registered a large, dangerous silhouette, darker than the surrounding blackness. Even though, Jack clearly saw the curved, sharp silvery armor, curled talons, and bared, pointed denta. As always, his brain did a double take, expecting the form to be the size of a five-story building, but instead the shape was no more than seven feet tall.

It was Megatron.

The Decepticon leader's presence in his room didn't even surprise Jack. The warlord tended to appear whenever it suited him—and that usually was in the middle of the night. Part of the teenager wondered what was wrong with him, not to be startled by the evil tyrant in his home. Instead, he gave a grumpy sigh.

"Yeah," the boy admitted, knowing he was as caught as red-handed as Ironhide found him. "I was with them."

Jack didn't see Megatron's reaction in the darkness, but he felt that flicker of annoyance—and something else—through their blood-bond. Possessiveness? Jealousy?

"At their new base, I presume?" the warlord questioned.

"…Yes," Jack answered carefully, his stomach twisting.

The boy prayed that the Decepticon leader wouldn't make him give it up, and threaten his loved ones if he didn't. He'd already been through enough for one day. His thoughts must have been louder than he meant them to be, because it was like Megatron read his mind.

"I will find their little 'nest' eventually," the warlord promised, "and desecrate their base once again."

Jack's shoulders slumped. Part of him was relieved that the Autobots would live another day; part of him was terrified that the monster sounded so determined. The boy decided to leave the light switch alone—last thing he needed was a neighbor to happen to look in, only to see the menacing form of Megatron. Instead, he crossed over to the bed, still in jeans and a sweater.

"Whatever you say, Bu—Megatron," the boy mumbled as he collapsed on top of the covers.

He was careful not to slip into the nicknames he and the 'Bots called him in mockery. Jack had tried that only once, and was immediately disciplined with a swipe of claws, leaving bloody marks. When the boy complained, Megatron merely promised worse. The human charge wisely shut up after that.

The warlord stepped closer when Jack settled, allowing the boy to see his menacing shadow, arms tucked behind his back.

"Soundwave informs me you participated in today's battle," the sterling Decepticon said.

"By 'participate' you mean put on the sidelines and immediately reprimanded—yeah," Jack answered.

"Is that so?" Megatron's voice was full of condescending mockery, then continuing on in a snarl, "It seems clear to me the Autobots did not mind including you in their little trap."

Jack blinked. "What do you mean?"

The Decepticon sneered, revealing more rows of deadly fangs. " _Please_. How foolish do you think of me? An Autobot frequency located in the heart of a human city? And it was no coincidence that the spark extractor was the source of it."

The tyrant's hostile reply only made the human more confused. It took several long moments for it to click what the sterling Decepticon was insinuating. "But we found the pod already open. Ravage was there—"

"When Ravage arrived, he found the spark extractor in _your_ clutches."

Jack stared. Suddenly the day's events flashed before his eyes again. Knock Out and Breakdown, confronting the Autobots, but refusing to engage. At the time, the boy thought the duo was trying to avoid unwanted attention, but it was more like the pair was toying with them, testing the waters.

Then in the catacombs, there was only Ravage and Ratbat, alone. The boy remembered how violently the cassettes had reacted to the deadly device in his hands. How desperate they were to claim it, how quickly they recoiled away from it. Then Soundwave, a watchful presence.

But it didn't make any sense. Especially considering—

"But what you did to Bumblebee—"

It was Megatron's turn to blink. "Hmm?" When the teenager just glared, the dictator blinked in realization. Followed by a dark chuckle. "Ah, they told you that much, did they? How I removed that scout's voice box?"

It wasn't the reply Jack was expecting. It took the boy a full five seconds to register the words. Then it clicked.

"It was _you_?" the teenager shouted. "You took Bumblebee's voice?" Megatron's pointed look told all. "Do you have any idea what that did to him?!"

"Of course. He was given that annoying prosthesis, and has continued to prove himself a pest."

Jack just stared and then asked lowly, "Why?"

"Because he proved he longer needed use of it," Megatron shrugged. "If he would not speak to me, he would not speak at all."

It was then the human was reminded what the being in his room really was. The Decepticon tyrant got what he wanted, one way or another. He would destroy anything and everything in his path, and not give it a second thought. Even if it included crippling a defenseless prisoner.

Megatron was a monster.

The thought made Jack grit his teeth in anger, spitting out before he could stop himself, "So then what's stopping you from stealing a T-cog?"

The tyrant did not look impressed. "And _what,_ pray tell, would I possibly want with a T-cog?"

"Knock Out—"

"Already has a supply of emergency parts in storage, which are in no need of use as he has assured me that all of our troops are operational."

"So did you tear it out just to keep the Autobots from using it?"

The accusation had an odd reaction. Silver armor flared, making the titan's shrunken form almost look twice as large. It was a reflex Jack had only seen a few times in a Cybertronian. Usually in battle mode, plating would clamp down, to cover vulnerable gaps of armor. However, this was the opposite, metal fluffing out like the fur of an offended cat.

"As if I would need to turn to such a desperate and cowardly tactic," Megatron growled dangerously. "If you would bother to learn more of our anatomy, little fool, you will know that the removal of a T-cog is a delicate procedure. One that cannot be performed on a battlefield. After all, if I am given the opportunity to steal one, why not steal a spark instead?"

Jack could not reply to that, knowing the cruel tyrant was right. Then he remembered what Arcee told him, what the caste system had done to the former miner. The boy was tempted to question Megatron, if it meant getting a confession. He stopped himself. Looking into the raging crimson optics, something hot and hostile bleeding through their blood-bond, the boy realized saying such aloud would be his death warrant.

His humble beginnings did not make Megatron any less egotistical. He was Champion of the Pits of Kaon and the Lord of the Decepticons. He would be nothing less. The tyrant would not tolerate the wounding of his pride, even from the being that shared the same blood.

But looking at the murderous form, Jack realized.

The silver demon had committed countless atrocities, bringing his own planet into war, leading it to its own destruction, along with entire solar systems. Who plotted to take the Earth, and crush the humans that lived upon it. He had already slaughtered hundreds. Including Jack's father.

But the Decepticon warlord would not commit the one sin that had been done to him.

Megatron was telling the truth.

"Th-then how?" Jack gasped.

"How a Cybertronian vessel's distress beacon was triggered?" Megatron echoed, his bristling plating slowly falling back into place. "Or how an unsuspecting Autobot was disabled and dissected, as a part of a _science experiment_?"

The Decepticon hissed the last two words, clearly showing his distaste. Likely reminded of his own experience, when he was held captive by human scientists. They had torn him apart, using stolen parts of his body to construct the technology that would make the modern day world. Just like—

Jack froze. Like Breakdown, strapped down and rendered defenseless, as he watched his own body being cannibalized. And could not fight back as his optic was ripped from its socket. Like Arcee. Ambushed, knocked out, while Jack was helpless. Helpless as _they_ tried to drill into her spark.

"MECH…" he realized, saying it like a curse under his breath. "…They're back, aren't they?"

"I doubt they ever left."

The teenager swallowed at the warlord's cold tone. He supposed he wouldn't know anything about the terrorist organization's movements since the battle, cut off from the Autobots and any military operations. There was a part of him that convinced himself that Silas and his goons had holed themselves up in some cave to lick their wounds, hiding from their humiliating defeat. That it would be a long time until Jack would have to hear from them again, if at all.

It wasn't until now he realized he was wrong. MECH wasn't hiding. They were plotting. And they planned to use Cybertronian technology to commit their revenge.

That still didn't explain—

"But why now? What do they want with Bumblebee's part?" Jack demanded.

Megatron made a harsh scoff that sounded like an irritated lion. "I doubt the primitive fools knew what they even took. Likely they merely wanted to take it as a toy."

"They went through a lot of trouble to get it."

"Hmm… If they are resourceful enough to snatch you from a guarded facility—" Jack couldn't help but cringe at that. "—it is not unfathomable they would find a Cybertronian vessel. Likely they excavated for research, but when triggering its distress signal, they retreated."

"Or used it as bait," Jack hypothesized. "They even left the spark extractor so we would buy into it. Then they copied the frequency and added it to their stasis-inducing device."

Megatron cocked an optic ridge, piecing it together himself. "Hmm, clever for cretins. You were fortunate, then, that you were not the one to fall for their little trap."

"And Bumblebee?"

"He deserves what he received."

"What about what happened to Breakdown?"

"Breakdown allowed himself to be captured by those smaller than him, weaker than him," Megatron replied in a deep growl. "It was because of his own incompetence."

The matter-of-fact tone made Jack sick to his stomach. He wanted to argue. After all, the proud warlord himself had being subjected to the same torture. Then the human realized.

Megatron's own capture had nothing to do with it. The Decepticon leader had already been in stasis centuries before Captain Archibald Witwicky found him. He could not fight back, defend himself, resist against his captors. It wasn't until his fellow Decepticons restored him to full consciousness that he finally was able to free himself.

However, if his soldiers fell in battle, it was because of their own undoing. It was proof they were too weak to serve him. Especially if they fell to such an "insignificant" race.

Jack swallowed. "Then what are we going to do?"

Megatron cocked his helm. "What, pray tell, would 'we' do?"

"Stop MECH."

The warlord barked a laugh, even tilting his helm back. He acted like Jack had said a joke. "If what you tell me is the truth, today they have disabled one of my enemies. Why would I interfere with such results?"

"Because you were lured to that trap just as much as we were," Jack pointed out. "That could have been one of your troops today. They're not just after the Autobots, but the Decepticons, too."

"I command an _army_ from a mighty warship. The loss of a single asset is hardly a blow to the Decepticon cause." Megatron narrowed his crimson optics and his armor fluffed out a little again. "This 'MECH' is no more than an insect. A persistent nuisance, but can be easily terminated."

Jack frowned, the words turning in his head. Of course Megatron would never admit _humans_ as a threat. It was true, they were significantly less technologically advanced than the ancient race. And that was besides the fact humans were _so_ much smaller and frailer. But they made up for it in other ways. As MECH proved today.

Then realization washed over him.

"You said you wanted to conquer the Earth, right?" Jack already knew the answer, instead saying it in a challenging tone. "Well, the Autobots aren't the only threat you have to face." When the Decepticon just stared, the army brat elaborated, "MECH is stealing Cybertronian technology and it's only a matter of time before they are going to use it against you."

Megatron's upper lip twitched at that, denta briefly flashing in the darkness. Regardless of his cynical nature, the dictator was still disgusted by the idea of another perverting what was his.

"If you don't fight against them now, you'll just have to fight them later. But if you put a stop to them, before they become more powerful, they won't be a problem anymore. There'll be no one to stop you from taking over the Earth."

It was a dangerous bet, and just saying the words left a bitter taste in the army brat's mouth. His father would roll in his grave, if he knew his son was suggesting the murder of human lives, just so the enemy could have the advantage. But Jack had seen what MECH was capable of.

They weren't just interested in dissecting Cybertronians, but humans. Like they tried to do to him, if NEST hadn't arrived in time. Silas had committed countless terrorists acts, and had almost killed not only Jack, but his friends and family. The ex-Navy SEAL wasn't just obsessed with the alien technology, but vengeance against the system that murdered his brothers-in-arms and destroyed his life.

It wasn't just about Autobots or Decepticons. Silas would have the power to destroy _millions_ of lives. He would turn the world into chaos.

Jack did not dare to move or even breathe, eying Megatron as the warlord processed his argument. His inscrutable expression betrayed no emotion, as the dictator simply stared out the window, lost in thought. The metal being was just as still, almost appearing as a statue in the gloom. Finally the boy saw a tremor of movement, but it was so minute that he thought he imagined it.

Until the trembling of Megatron's shoulders increased, accompanied by a low, raspy series of growls. Laughter. Finally he turned back to the human, crimson optics glowing and fangs flashing in a wide sneer.

"A human after my own spark," the monster purred. "The Blood of Unicron suits you well."

Jack swallowed, ignoring the comment. "Then you'll send the Decepticons after MECH?"

Megatron was silent. Then, "No."

" _No_?" the boy echoed, eyes going wide and his jaw dropping. "But you just said—"

"I admitted nothing. Engaging the humans would cost time and resources, allowing the Autobots to gain an advantage. Something, I _will not_ allow."

Jack blinked away his shock at the warlord's blunt refusal, gritting his teeth in frustration. He knew Cybertronians were stubborn, which he had learned during his time with the Autobots. That was nothing. Megatron was on a whole other level.

"Prove to me that this 'army' is worth my attention," the dictator growled lowly. "And then, I just _may_ consider their desecration."

"Don't you remember the last time I faced off against MECH?"

"Oh, yes, when you slipped away from their clutches and almost bested their leader." The Decepticon's glare was accusing. "Only for you to hesitate."

Jack just glared back. "I told you. I'm not a murderer."

"And had it not been for your petty morals, we would not be having this conversation."

The army brat couldn't help it. He flinched. Still, he kept his voice strong as he argued, "And why me? You would have a better chance finding them. I can't even talk to the Autobots right now."

"Ah, yes." There was the sound of heavy pedes and Jack looked up when claws gently touched his knee. "But you are not banned from your fellow humans?"

"Well, y-yeah, but—"

Jack didn't understand what the warlord was getting at, but any protest on his tongue vanished when Megatron cupped his cheek. He tilted the boy's head to meet his gaze.

"MECH is composed of _humans,_ are they not? What's stopping you from finding them yourself?"

"And what if I don't?" Jack questioned, trying to summon the last of his courage, daring to glare at Megatron.

"Then they may slaughter an unpredictable number of innocents," the sterling demon answered, all too casually, a cold claw stroking his cheek.

Just the very thought made Jack's skin crawl. He knew Megatron could care less about collateral damage, but the same could not be said for the military brat, who was raised to always think for others. Maybe the Decepticon was merely telling him this because he knew Jack could not refuse. Maybe the warlord was right.

It was hard to think straight, with Megatron pressing against their blood-bond. The boy could _feel_ the Decepticon leader's will pushing against his.

"I-I don't know how…" Jack still tried to protest, but it wasn't as strong as he wanted.

"I have every confidence you will find a way," Megatron purred.

The servo suddenly slid to his chest, and the teenager squeaked as his back was pushed into the mattress. He did not dare move as the massive frame of the Decepticon—who was still over a foot taller than him—loomed over him, the bed frame squeaking in protest at the _heavy_ weight. Then Megatron was by his side, wrapping his arms around the human possessively. Jack did not resist as his body was pressed against the warlord's broad, warm chest. Long, sharp claws brushed along his back, deceptively smooth and gentle. Even they could end his life in a heartbeat.

Jack knew he should care. It had only been a matter of _minutes_ since he was with Arcee, with the Autobots. They were fighting to protect his world, and men were _dying_. Yet here he was, listening to the sickening sparkbeat of Earth's greatest enemy. The boy did not blame Arcee for being so disappointed in him. But he didn't care.

Megatron was the only one that didn't make him feel alone anymore. He was the only one that could make the pain go away.

There was a purr against his ear. "You must be thirsty, after such a productive day."

"No," Jack refused in a mumble.

"No?"

The boy could practically see the quirk of the Decepticon's optic ridge. It was the same argument they always had. The same argument Jack always lost.

"I'm tired," the human insisted, as if it wasn't a lame excuse he hadn't used before.

"It will make you feel better."

Megatron raised his claws to his other servo and without so much as a flinch, he dragged them across his own palm. Almost instantly, a dark, vile liquid began to ooze from the wound. Dark energon.

Jack swallowed at the sight of it, trying to ignore the growing itch in his veins. He tried to ignore it, to fight it. Suddenly claws gripped the teen's shoulder, easily turning him around and propping him up.

"Drink, my little one," Megatron coaxed.

Jack lost.

The noxious taste of poison cloaked his tongue as the dark energon poured down his throat. It burned. It always burned, no matter how many times he drank the vile substance. But the boy didn't even flinch. Not even when the dark energon churned in his stomach. He only focused on the warmth that spread through his limbs, replacing that horrible itch. The ache in his bones faded away. The cuts and scrapes across his body disappeared.

Jack wasn't even aware he wrapped both his small hands around Megatron's huge servo. Guzzling down the Blood of the Chaos Bringer.

There was a chuckle in his ear. "So greedy."

What would the Autobots think? Megatron was their sworn enemy, and here he was, practically drinking from his servo.

Suddenly the exhaustion returned with a vengeance, washing over Jack like a tidal wave. His eyes fluttered. He felt something tangle in his hair, gently scratching his scalp.

"Go to sleep, my pet," Megatron whispered, in a rare, soft tone.

Jack closed his eyes, and surrendered to sleep.

* * *

The next day was the Fourth of July. The scent of barbeques filled the air and people walked down the streets, some with sparklers in their hands. Bright and proud American flags were posted high all over the town, and handful of store owners decorated their shops with red, white, and blue. Later that night, some of the locals would go out in the desert, away from dry vegetation, and send off fireworks. Usually some other families would set up a picnic in the sands and watch.

Jack couldn't get himself in the same jubilant mood as the rest of the people of his hometown. After the excitement from the previous day, the bustle of Jasper seemed uneventful. At least Miko and Raf weren't in an excited mood, either. Both being born in other countries, they did not have the same sense of patriotism as most Americans. As Miko bluntly pointed out, "I'm not from here. Why should I care?"

However, the hot-heated girl could not resist a good explosion, even a harmless and colorful one. Or rather, she was still upset she missed last year's excitement. When one of the tents selling fireworks out in the desert caught fire, and proceeded to send two hundred missiles in every direction. Although Jack insisted it was unlikely to ever happen again, she didn't seem undeterred.

"Oh, come on!" the exchange student complained. "These are my last weeks in the States! I have to see _something_ cool!"

The army brat had used up his will to argue with Megatron, so he found himself agreeing to go. They decided to meet in the center of town, where they would take Miko's host parent's pick-up truck out into the desert. Jack arrived early, but he wasn't too concerned. Raf always showed up on time. Miko was the one that was always late.

However, deciding he had time to kill, Jack locked up his bike to a post and wandered down the street. The thuds and pops of fireworks were already ringing in the distance, despite it wasn't fully dark yet. The sidewalks were fuller more than usual, mostly people that decided to publicly display their patriotism.

Jack veered away from the celebration, deciding to loop around the block a couple times and be back in time for his friends' arrival. The walk would help get rid of the restless energy in his limbs and give him time to think. It was especially helpful when the commotion faded away behind him.

The teen kept repeating the events over and over in his mind, and his conversation with Megatron. He knew what the Decepticon lord wanted him to do. Another impossible task.

One where the tyrant fully expected him to fail, and would hold no remorse when he did. Just like the warlord had allowed Jack to live down in the mines, only if the human managed to free the trapped titan. And when the dictator sent the human to infiltrate the Pentagon.

Now, he had to find MECH, and convince the warlord to divert his war from the Autobots, just to exterminate a pest. Jack didn't even know where to begin. He needed to somehow to find the most wanted man in the world, yet vanished without a trace.

Jack heard a sound behind him, but didn't give it any thought. Or the next, or the next, or the next. The army brat felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It was light, soft thuds against the pavement, like footsteps. Jack glanced at the ground, but saw no shadow next to his. Likely just another citizen on the way to a party. The teenager rounded the corner, on the last leg of his walk, headed back to his original post.

The footsteps followed him.

It wasn't right. There were no parties this way… The army brat kept his strides controlled and even, keeping his shoulders slumped. He was just paranoid. He was just edgy from everything. He would spend the night with his friends, have fun. Get his minds off things, and finally get some _peace_.

Jack glanced down. A dark, looming shadow was next to his.

It was then that a deep, ancient instinct stirred, telling him the basic, animalistic of commands: _run_. The teenager bolted. Only for an arm to wrap around his neck.

Jack choked as he was yanked backwards, his back pressed against a solid, warm body. Instantly he clawed at the foreign limb, trying to pry it off his trachea. He flailed his legs, but his heel couldn't find their target. A leg wrapped around his.

"Hey, stop! I'm not going to hurt you!" a voice sounded in his ear, sounding far too fake for his liking.

Thinking quickly, Jack reared his head back, colliding with the back of his skull with the man's chin. Pain exploded across his head and there was a grunt of pain, but the grip did not relent. Suddenly something soft and rough brushed against his nostrils and mouth. He smelled an odd, sweetly scent. The boy froze.

 _Don't breathe, don't breathe, don't breathe._

But it was hard to fight and hold his breath at the same time. His lungs quickly starting burning and his legs radiated with soreness. His head became lighter. Jack didn't realize his struggles were going weaker, unable to keep his hold on the limb around his throat.

"It's okay, Jack," the voice murmured, saying his name like an old friend. "Sh… It's okay… Just relax…"

Part of Jack wanted to believe him. It was getting harder to think. The world darkened. But he felt another part, screaming at him, telling him to get away. That this man was no friend.

His thoughts drifted. He remembered his father. Dad had a solution to everything. He taught all he could to his son, even dragging him out into the mountainous wilderness of Washington to teach him how to camp. How to survive. How to fight. He remembered, how his father reminded him it never hurt to be resourceful. And a mantra the Ranger repeated to his son whenever he could, both in seriousness and in jest.

Always carry a knife.

Jack's hand wrapped around the cool metal of a switchblade in his pocket. And buried it in the man's thigh.

Instantly a ragged scream was in his ear, making him wince. The cloth disappeared and the hold relented. With a desperate tug, Jack wrenched himself free, just to hear a furious snarl behind him.

"Why you little—"

The nice guy was gone. The army brat twisted and slashed his blade across his assaulter's face. There was a second cry as a line of crimson sliced across his cheek.

Jack spun on his heels and took off down the street, running as fast as his legs would allow. It was only a few steps when he stumbled, the world panning. His head spun, feeling almost weightless. He forced himself to take another step. He hoped he could stagger faster than his attacker could limp.

The teen ducked down an alleyway. He summoned all of the will in his body, sending a single order throughout his limbs: _move_. He focused, latching on any instinct to keep him going. He felt heat course through his veins, the world focused. It narrowed to a single point, like he was looking down at tunnel. Only for the tunnel to sway back and forth, his body listing this way and that. His heart hammered in his chest, his head was in a fog. Everything was a paradox.

Jack didn't even remember collapsing in the alleyway. He only registered his back pressing against a solid wall and his legs sprawled against a cold ground. He didn't hear anymore footsteps. He lost his attacker. For now.

The boy willed himself to stand. His body did not move. The world titled. Jack gritted his teeth. He had to get out of here. But he _couldn't_.

He hardly processed pulling out his phone and dialing a number. He had no idea what he even slurred. He only remembered fighting the sensations across his body, pulling in two different directions.

Move, sleep.

Fight, surrender.

Restless, sluggish.

Light, heavy.

Footsteps sounded beside him. Jack started and raised his switchblade, ready to slice the filthy vermin in half.

"Eep!" Miko squeaked, flinching back and raising her hands in defense. "Hey, I'm a friendly!"

The boy sighed and practically dropped his knife that he had clutched so desperately. "S-Sorry."

"Jeez, what happened to you?!"

"S-S-someone tried to k-kidnap me."

" _What_?" The girl moved forward, likely to help him, then she looked into his gaze. " _Whoa_. What's up with your eyes?"

"Huh?"

"You've _got_ to see this."

Miko pulled out her phone and Jack heard the click of a camera. She was wise enough to approach him carefully and slowly, keeping out of his personal space as she turned the phone around to let him see the screen. Curled against the wall, he looked as miserable as he felt, but the teen locked on the same anomaly as Miko had.

The iris around his pupils were a deep, tainted purple.

Jack swallowed. "We n-need to g-get out of here."

Miko nodded and stuck her phone back in her pocket. She gently took the switchblade from his grip, snapping it closed and putting it away. Then she took a hold of his arm.

"On your feet, soldier," the Japanese girl encouraged, pulling with all her might. Jack struggled to his feet, his knees buckling underneath him. The alleyway swayed. "Whoa." Miko pulled him upright. "Over here, fella."

The boy hardly realized his arm was around her shoulders, practically leaning his weight against the smaller girl as she guided him. Miko kept encouraging him, pausing whenever his head lolled. He barely detected a second presence, this one smaller and more frantic, chattering to Miko. A second pair of arms wrapped around him.

Jack next registered Miko's truck, the girl and Raf practically shoving him in the seat. The world rumbled as an engine came to life. He heard voices, high and panicked and shrill, but he could not make out the words. He couldn't make out anything.

He sunk into unconscious.


	8. For A Friend

Jack first felt a dull, pounding ache throughout his skull. The boy groaned, furrowing his eyebrows together. He heard a noise, but he could not decipher its meaning. He shifted, but his body was numb and sluggish. The teen felt warmth wrapped around him, his head pressed against plush. …A bed?

"Jack? You okay, buddy?"

A voice. The army brat blinked, only to see blurred shapes.

"M-Miko?" he slurred.

"Sh-should we call his mom?" came a timid voice. That was Raf.

"And say what? That we found her son passed out in an alleyway with purple eyes?"

"Well… yeah."

"Don't," Jack mumbled. "I don't want to worry her."

He forced his eyes open and the world focused. At first he was disoriented, until he realized he was in his room, gently laid across the bed with a blanket thrown over him. Miko and Raf were stationed on the other side of the room, the younger boy sitting straight in his chair and the girl casually perched on the desk. Both wore conflicted, concerned looks, glancing between their friend and each other.

"How did I get here?" Jack asked, slowly rising into a sitting position. He winced as the movement triggered a fresh wave of pain through his skull.

"Raf and I brought you," Miko answered. "Your mom's not home yet, so you should be in the clear."

When he glanced around, the army brat realized it was still dark out. His clock confirmed it was late. It must have been only a few hours, since… There was a throb behind his eyes as he remembered.

An assaulting arm around his throat, a false, soothing voice, and sickly sweet scent. Jack knew what it was. Chloroform. The man had tried to kidnap him. And then…

Had the dark energon allowed him to fight back? He couldn't remember. He only recalled a blurry haze as he stumbled through Jasper. Miko was there, she found him...

"Jack," Raf's voice brought his attention back to his friends. "W-What happened?"

Jack sighed, "Some guy snuck up behind me with chloroform."

"Why?" Miko asked.

"I don't know, I didn't ask." Jack sighed, trying to pierce the fog in his mind to remember. "He… knew my name."

"What?" gasped Raf.

"That's _creepy_ ," Miko agreed.

"So that does mean… it was targeted?"

"That means they could be after you right now!"

At her exclamation, Miko jumped from the desk and practically threw herself on the windowsill, peering out as if expecting to see a shady figure standing outside his home.

"Don't think so…" Jack mumbled. When his friends just gave him quizzical stares, he explained, "I kind of stabbed him…"

For a full second, neither replied, just staring at him with wide eyes. Miko was the one to break the silence.

"Woohoo! Nice going, Jackrabbit!" she cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

"It's _not_ an accomplishment," the boy retorted.

"Sure it is!"

Jack rolled his eyes. Raf just looked at him with a frown.

"Do you know who would try to take you?" he asked.

"Human traffickers, low-life criminal, run-of-the-mill lunatic—take your pick," Jack muttered, flipping the blanket off him. He swung his legs over the side so he could properly face his friends. "It's not like there's a list of people that are after m—"

The boy froze.

" _If they are resourceful enough to take you from a guarded facility…"_

When they took him, to use as a ransom for what they wanted most. Only to learn he was far more than meets the eye.

"MECH…" Jack realized under his breath.

Again his friends just froze, before Raf gulped and Miko shook her head in confusion and disbelief.

"Wait, why would they be after you?" she demanded.

"They kidnapped me from NEST, remember?" the boy pointed out.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with…" Miko paused, and pointed to her face. "You know…"

Jack realized what she was referring to. "They're not still purple, are they?"

The exchange student squinted, analyzing, before deciding, "No."

The army brat almost let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't aware of the physical change until Megatron pointed it out to him. When Jack chose not to believe him, the titan pressed against their blood-bond and directed him to the closest mirror. His horrified scream woke up his mother on the other side of the house.

Then Jack remembered his friends weren't the only ones to notice. But another, when he almost drove the sharpened stick into Silas's heart.

"I… I don't know," the boy confessed in a sigh. Then knowing the question that was burning in the other teenagers' minds, he added, "It's because of the dark energon. It's still in me."

Immediately Raf and Miko's body stiffened, and even from the other side of the room, Jack heard the breath hitching in their throats.

" _What_?" Miko screeched. "But I thought docs at NEST purged it or whatever!"

Jack merely shook his head. "It's _can't_ be removed. And as long as it's in my veins, I'm bound to Megatron."

He realized too late he didn't mean to say that, but the fog in his mind made it hard to think clearly. He didn't know exactly how chloroform worked, besides from the cliché horror movies and his mother's medical expertise. But apparently it had lingering side-effects.

Thankfully, his friends did not comment on his slip. Maybe because they were well aware of the Decepticon leader's obsession with the rare energon. Maybe because they knew that Megatron had poisoned Jack with the evil substance.

But the teen was spared from another confession, as Raf asked, "But… what does dark energon have to do with what happened tonight?"

The older boy just shook his head. "I don't know how it works. S-sometimes, I can feel… _him,_ but the rest of the time, it… just _reacts_."

Jack knew dark energon did not mix well with depressants. Last time he tampered with alcohol, he beat Vince into a pulp. Apparently anesthetics had the same effect. Something told him Megatron would not use their blood-bond to meddle with human affairs. It weakened his resolve, allowing the bloodlust of the Decepticon tyrant to bleed through. Or maybe it was that same destructive nature that drove the Terrorcons. But Jack didn't want to think about that.

"So… does it give you superpowers or something?" Miko asked, cocking her head curiously.

Jack didn't have the courage to tell his friends the high state he would be in, as he pummeled his opponents with ease. He had beaten Vince. Lennox told him how he almost killed the NEST officials- _Arcee_ -without a second thought. How he defeated Silas. And then tonight. He didn't see it as some "superpower." But something he had no control over, and one day he could hurt the people he loved. He already did.

"It… just puts me in a bad mood," Jack grumbled.

"What would MECH want with something like that?" Raf asked.

"I don't know." The army brat shook his head. "I don't even know what they want with Bumblebee's T-cog!"

He didn't mean to say that, either. Stupid chloroform. Jack winced as his classmates exploded at the same time.

" _What_?!" Miko screeched.

"Something happened to Bumblebee?!" Raf cried.

Jack leaned away as both began peppering him with rapid-fire, panic-filled questions. The military brat let it go on for thirty seconds before the headache grew too painful.

"Shut up!" he wailed.

Miko and Raf clipped their mouths shut, but still stared at him expectantly. The boy sighed, realizing the damage was done, and could not take back his comment. He wasn't smart enough to come up with anything else, either. Megatron had done well to convince him he was a terrible liar.

With a heavy sigh, Jack told them.

Once again his ears were assaulted by Miko's shrill, enraged screams. But it was not because of MECH's gruesome crime.

"You went to _Paris_ with _Arcee_?!" the girl shrieked.

"Well, it wasn't exactly _planned_ ," Jack tried. "We were at the base—"

He realized too late he said the wrong thing.

"You went to the base _without me_?!"

Raf curled in a ball and Jack leaned away, raising his arms in defense should the raging girl attack him. Amber eyes blazing and balled fists at her sides, Miko looked ready to set off on him.

"It-it was a last minute decision. She visited to wish me happy birthday, then… one thing led to another and…"

"How does 'happy birthday' lead to going to see the 'Bots?!" the exchange student demanded, waving her arms in the air. "How could you do this to me?"

"It was a one time thing, and it didn't mean anything. I was thinking of you the whole time—"

The girl was completely ignoring the boy's snark as she paced back and forth. " _Months_! It's been months since I've even _talked_ to Bulkhead! And _you_ met up with him first! That's so unfair!"

Jack sighed, willing patience. He was well aware once Miko got going, there was no chance of showing her logic. According to her, she was the only one suffering without her comrade.

"Yeah, well if you bother to remember, I haven't seen Arcee, either," Jack spat through gritted teeth. "How could I just walk away and wave it off?"

"How could you not even tell me about this?!"

"Because I knew you would react this way!"

"STOP IT!"

Both Jack and Miko froze, the boy becoming aware the pair had aggressively neared each other during the exchange. And their voices had gotten louder and louder with each sentence. Realizing his mistake, the army brat glanced over to see where Raf was sitting in the chair, only to see a shaking ball with ruffled red hair.

Jack immediately chastised himself. The youngest of the three was also the most sensitive. Raf had told his friends about his panic attacks, that seem to occur completely random. However, the older teens noticed they particularly happened whenever someone raised their voice too high.

"Raf, I'm sorry," Jack hastily apologized, stepping away from Miko to turn his attention to the boy.

"Hey, it's okay," the exchange student assured in a soft voice, in sharp contrast of her previous shrill tone. When Raf didn't reply, the girl dared to step beside him, wrapping a warm arm around his shoulders and comfortingly stroked his arm. "We didn't mean to get upset."

The Hispanic boy's face remained buried in his arms, his knees to his chest. Jack sighed, knowing how long it took for the younger boy to calm down. Sometimes minutes, sometimes hours. He _knew_ that, yet decided the best place to argue with a stubborn Miko was right in front of the poor boy. He exchanged glances with the girl, who looked just as guilty as he felt.

Just when Jack convinced himself it was going to be another bad attack, a muffle voice spoke, "D-did you see Bumblebee?"

The teenager's stomach knotted and he swallowed the bile in his throat. He nodded, even though Raf couldn't see him. "Yeah."

Puffy, wet, red eyes looked up at him. "Is-is he okay?"

Jack really hoped Raf wouldn't ask that. Eying the fine tremble in the Hispanic boy's arms, he thought about how to answer him. Last thing he wanted was to worsen his friend's condition. At the same time, Raf deserved to know what happened to his best friend. Reluctantly, he told is friends about the scout's ghastly injury.

Like he feared, the trembling increased and tears ran down flushed cheeks. It was Miko that spoke.

"MECH chopped Bumblebee?" the Japanese girl gasped. She still clung onto Raf, who was on the verge of sobbing, even as she stared at the older teen with disbelief.

Jack nodded grimly. He caved and told them everything. His visit at NEST headquarters, but making sure to exclude the soldier's demise and Ironhide's accusation. He instead explained the signal they detected, that led them to the heart of Paris. How they thought it was a Decpeticon trap at first, but it revealed MECH had lured them there, even using ancient Cybertronian technology to do it. All so they could dissect an Autobot.

"B-but why Bumblebee?" Raf asked, his quivering voice small and frail.

"I don't think they cared who they got, as long as their trap caught something," Jack replied solemnly.

"How could they do that?!" Miko snapped, but this time, kept her heated voice at a measured volume. "What would they want with his… T-cog?"

Jack shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe it was just a hit-and-run job."

"S-so, Bumblebee can't transform?" Raf asked, so soft and quiet the older boy hardly heard him.

"No."

The youngest still desperately reached out for hope. "Ratchet can f-fix him, right?"

Jack's own chest ached, knowing he was only hurting his friend. "No." At his classmates' horrified expressions, he explained, "Ratchet said each biomechanism is unique to every individual Cybertronian."

The army brat stopped himself from saying more, knowing no more needed to be said. He would just be making things worse if he did.

A small, pitiful whimper escaped Raf's lips. He folded in on himself, fingernails digging into the sleeve of his sweater. Jack instinctively moved to comfort the boy, even though there was nothing he could do. He paused when Raf spoke up again in the frail voice.

"I wish I could have been there," the boy confessed. When Jack just stared in confusion, he added, "I-I could have stopped it, warned him."

"There was nothing you could have done, Raf," the eldest assured him quietly.

"Yeah," Miko agreed. "And you could've gotten caught, too!"

For a long moment, Raf didn't reply or move. Then he nodded, slowly, and buried his face in his knees again. The girl looked to Jack.

"So what are we gonna do?" she demanded.

"What?" the army brat blinked.

"We can't just sit on the sidelines when the team is down a player! We have to help 'Bee!"

Jack frowned. He couldn't even convince Megatron to fight MECH, and he had no idea where to start searching for the hidden organization. Never mind fixing an Autobot without a T-cog, when he couldn't even talk to them in the first place.

"And how are we going to do that?" Jack questioned.

"Well, you said Bumblebee could only transform with _his_ T-cog," Miko mused. "Then we find the T-cog!"

Jack just stared at her like she had grown a second head. "Find the giant alien organ stolen by trigger-happy _terrorists_ , that not even the FBI, CIA, NSA—the whole _alphabet—_ can track down?"

As if his errand wasn't impossible enough. But to pinpoint the location of a single object, if it hadn't already been torn apart? After all, Megatron had made it clear he couldn't care less about the Autobot's misfortune.

"It only took NEST a day to find them," Miko replied, raising a finger.

"Because they had a prisoner to interrogate. How are _we_ going to find them?"

Jack knew he wasn't being fair, taking his frustration out on his friends, but the same questions had been stewing in his mind for almost twenty-four hours.

"Bumblebee got hit in Paris, right?" the girl questioned. "Then we start there."

"MECH was already gone with the T-cog before 'Bee even woke up," Jack recalled. "They could be anywhere by now."

"Not really. I mean, you can't just stuff a giant alien part in the back of a van."

"She's right," Raf sniffed, raising his head. His face was still red and wet, but he stopped quivering. "It's hard to transport something that big and heavy, not to mention fragile. Plus Cybertronians, even their biomechanisms, release a radioactive signal that human devices can detect."

"Then how did they get away so quickly?" Jack asked curiously.

"Well… they could have had a cell in the city. They could have been on standby until they were activated for the um, operation, and hid it somewhere until things cooled down."

Jack pursed his lips in thought. It certainly made sense. It explained how MECH knew when and where to set the trap, without leaving behind a single trace. Along with the fact the Autobots were distracted by their longtime enemies, and then by their wounded comrade.

"So you think MECH could still be there?" the oldest teenager asked.

"I-I'm not sure," Raf confessed hesitantly. "But it's worth a shot. Besides—" The pitiful shine in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a determined gleam. "Bumblebee is my friend. I want to do whatever I can to help him."

Jack swallowed. Any one of the children knew what it felt like, when their guardian was injured. The boy knew, that even now, he would do the same for Arcee in a heartbeat. But there was one problem.

"I don't think our parents are just going to let us just leave on a trip to the other side of the world," he pointed out.

"Well, if they don't _know_ ," Miko thought mischievously.

"And how is that going to work?" Jack threw his hands up in the air. "It's not like we just snap our fingers and—" The girl gave him a pointed look and the boy realized. " _Oh_."

"But we can't contact the Autobots," said Raf. "And groundbridge at the old base is down."

"But it's still there," Miko clarified, in the same tone that Jack recognized that meant no good. At the boys' questioning looks, she explained, "Maybe we can fix it up, and teleport ourselves to Paris."

"I want you to think long and hard about what you just said," Jack deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest in doubt.

"I just did."

"Really?"

Before the pair could bicker further, Raf interjected, "Ratchet said he reverse-engineered human technology to construct the groundbridge. Maybe if I look at it, I can figure out how to repair it. I fixed my own computer, once."

Jack didn't have the heart to tell him that a mass produced laptop and a machine that tore holes in the space-time continuum were completely different things. The boy's voice had grown stronger and his tears had dried, but instead it just made the older teen's heart heavier.

The last time he involved his friends in a conspiracy, they had almost gotten all arrested. And the army brat had gotten kidnapped by Megatron. When they broke their promise to keep it secret.

Jack wasn't planning on including them this time. He may had forgiven them, but he couldn't bring himself to trust them. Especially when he knew their impossible plan was bordering on suicide.

"We find the T-cog, and then what?" the army brat questioned. He was pretty sure he couldn't call Megatron for an air strike while dragging a Cybertronian biomechanism behind him with extremists shooting at him.

"We take it back to NEST," Miko concluded. "And then they'll see that we can help! We can be with the Autobots again!"

Jack cringed. "Miko… I don't think it works that way…"

The Japanese girl narrowed her eyes at him. " _You_ got to see Arcee, I haven't seen my partner in _months_." It was then that the boy realized it wasn't that same mischievous tone or rebellious gleam in her eye. It was something he had never seen before. "And I'll do anything to see Bulkhead again."

It was a blazing fire behind her amber eyes, fed by determination and desperation and hope, and there would be nothing that would quell it.

"Anything."

* * *

Autobot Outpost Omega One had once been an nuclear missile silo, built in the middle of the Mojave Desert, miles from civilization from every direction. It was active during the Cold War, when the United States experimented with the powerful technology in case of the outbreak of another World War. However, when it assured that it was only mutual destruction, the base was left abandoned.

Its large size and isolation made it the perfect hiding place for the Autobots. The military had done its best to upgrade the fifty-year-old bunker, but could only do so much. However, Ratchet had gladly helped himself to repairing and redesigning almost the entire silo to fit the large beings' needs. However, left unoccupied once again, the outpost fell into disrepair. It did not help that it had been left in shambles from when the Decepticons invaded.

Scratches, holes, and scorch marks covered the walls. Loose rafters hung from the ceiling, the screen of main terminals was shattered and dark, and one of the catwalks had even collapsed. Not even the central elevator shaft was left untouched, the inner workings left exposed and the lift hanging precariously from a single cable. A fine layer of dust and debris covered the floor, along the unnatural, discolored stains of dry energon.

Jack remembered the last time he was here, when he felt his world crash down around him. When he cried in Megatron's arms like a babe, but the Decepticon did not let him go.

The base looked just like he left it. Except the grey husks of the drones were gone. Jack's stomach knotted, knowing there was only one party that would bother collecting the wreckage. He doubted it was for a proper burial.

While the army brat had already seen the remains of the Autobot base, Raf and Miko were seeing it for the first time. Their eyes were wide with horror as they used their phones to illuminate the gloom.

"W-whoa…" Raf stuttered.

"This is crazy," Miko gasped.

"Come on," Jack ushered.

He moved towards the staircase that led to the second floor. It rattled underneath his movements, making the boy unconsciously grip the railings tightly, but he learned from last time it would hold. Miko quickly followed him, but Raf hesitated. After some coaxing from his older friends, the young boy cautiously followed them up the unstable staircase.

The second story looked as bad as the rest of the base. The little corner the kids had set up as a makeshift sanctuary was utterly destroyed. The television was gone, the game station lay in a pile of scrap metal, and the sofa was torn to shreds. Jack's chest twisted, recalling the hours upon hours he and his friends spent in that little spot, conversing either with each other or their guardians or merely resting in each others' presence.

But now those days were gone. Jack swallowed and forced himself to turn the other way. Upon closer inspection of the main console, the boy was greeted with black scorch marks and gaping holes. Laserbeak had really done his best, to ensure the Autobots would never use the groundbridge again.

"So… we're going to fix… this?" Miko observed with her arms crossed over her chest. Apparently she had finally recognized the task that lay before them.

"Yep," Jack confirmed in a flat tone.

Raf had already set to work, rushing forward and sitting on his knees. He was already pulling out his laptop, saying, "The groundbridge itself is functional. The fuel redundant loops and phase-lock compensators weren't damaged, but the mainframe is completely fried."

Jack and Miko just exchanged uncertain glances.

"Do you have any idea what he just said?" Miko was the one to ask, and her friend just shook his head. "Wait, how do _you_ know this?"

"Ratchet showed me," Raf replied.

Of course he did.

Instead of making another baffled comment, Jack pressed, "Can you fix it, little buddy?"

The genius was already scrutinizing the terminal, playing with the lifeless keys and pulling at blown wires.

"I don't think I can…"

Miko moaned in dismay. "So we came all this way for _nothing_?"

"No." Raf turned his attention back to his laptop. "The _controls_ are down, but I can replace it with _my_ computer."

"You can do that?" Jack tilted his head.

"Before the only way to activate the groundbridge was through the terminal. I was able to sync my laptop with it, so… I kind of already know how it works. If I can instead upload a program into my computer to monitor the groundbridge—"

"We're in business!" Miko finished with a cheer.

"How long will it take?" Jack asked.

Every minute they spent here, the greater chance MECH had at getting away. Stealing Bumblebee's T-cog. And destroying more innocent lives.

"It depends," Raf shrugged, already tapping away.

Jack decided not to push, knowing the genius was already at work. He and Miko had learned once Raf shut himself in his mind, there was no drawing him out until he found the solution to the problem at hand. They probably couldn't drag him out of the base even if they tried.

It turned into a waiting game, then. Jack and Miko, neither being skilled technicians, stayed more in support more than anything. They only intervened if Raf asked for an extra hand, and ushered them away the moment their task was done. Not once did the boy even glance up from his computer, eyes set on his work and fingers flying across the keyboard. The rest of the time was spent with the pair of teenagers entertaining themselves.

Apparently the base still blocked a signal, preventing them from meddling with their phones. Instead, they found a soccer ball Jack had brought in one day, kicking it back and forth. They played tag, then hide and seek. Then Miko came up with an absurd game of the "floor is lava," in which they had to cross from one side of the silo to the other without touching the stains of energon or a piece of debris. It was more challenging than Jack thought it would be.

Eventually he grew bored of the aimless activities and lounged on one of the cots, trying not to remember the last time he slept in one. He made sure to hide the dark, nearly black, purple stain on the floor. Miko went off to explore the ruined base again, either mapping out the maze of scrap or entertaining herself with another game. Jack closed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, dozing. Only to jolt awake at a triumphant yell.

"I got it! I got it!" Raf cheered.

Blinking, Jack sluggishly rose into a sitting position. Only to be greeted with a powerful, high-pitched hum. The teen felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as energy filled the air. Then there was a bright, warm flash of light.

"Woohoo! Way to go, Raf!" Miko exclaimed in victory, even jumping into the air with both fists raised.

The tunnel that held the groundbridge thrummed with power as the vortex of green, blue, and white shades filled it.

The genius only smiled shyly, but Jack could see the relief and pride in his eyes. The army brat quickly crossed over to the younger boy, Miko joining him.

"So what's the plan?" the Japanese girl asked, practically bouncing on her heels.

"You and Raf stay here," Jack ordered. "I'll call you when I need a 'bridge—"

"No way!" Miko refused, interrupting him. "We're doing this together!"

The eldest teen just shook his head. "Miko, it's way too dangerous. This isn't like how it was before."

"Sure it is—"

"No, it's not. You aren't going to watch a robot battle royale and expect Bulkhead to come save you. It's just _us_ now. No Autobots, no back-up." He watched Raf and Miko exchange glances, the weight of that statement sink in. "And these are _terrorists_. If we get caught, we're not going to get arrested. They'll _kill_ us, especially once we get—"

"We know that," a voice spoke up. Jack blinked and glanced down, only to see Raf staring back up at him "And this isn't just about us. One of our friends is hurt, and you're right, MECH could hurt other people if we don't do something. That's why we _have_ to do this. For Bumblebee."

Jack just shook his head. It took him several seconds to force out, "So many people have gotten hurt because of me. If something happened to one of you guys—"

He trailed off, unable to finish the unthinkable sentence. His friends' expressions softened at the torn look, to which Raf argued, "We'll always have each other." Then with a burning gaze, he added, "And there's no going back this time."

"What are friends for?" Miko added.

Jack swallowed. Every fiber in his being told him this was a horrible idea. So many things could go wrong. There was no guarantee that anything would go right. Once again he had made a deal with the devil, and once again he was dragging his best friends into it. But they were right.

This wasn't just about them anymore.

It was for a friend.

Jack nodded. "Then let's do this."

His friends smiled, and Miko even pumped a fist in the air.

"Alright!" she cheered. "Operation: Bumblebee!"


	9. Operation: Bumblebee (Part 1)

Groundbridging to Paris was as disorientating as the first time. The bright light, the smells, tastes, and mixed together in an overwhelming amount of sensation assaulted the boy. Judging from the looks of his friends, they weren't much better. However, Miko was the first to recover, disorientation being replaced by fascination.

" _Wow_! I can't believe I'm in Paris!" the Japanese girl exclaimed, even skipping forward a few steps, glancing back and forth. "Can you see the Eiffel Tower from here?"

"This isn't a vacation, Miko," Jack sighed.

The girl pouted, but quickly scampered back to the boys.

"I set a timer on the groundbridge before we left," Raf announced. "A portal should appear here in four hours."

"Isn't that too long?" Miko asked, tilting her head.

"I'm wondering if it's going to be enough," Jack grumbled.

The eldest knew why the genius had done such a thing. The groundbridge could only be operated from the base, so usually Ratchet or another Autobot had to stay behind to monitor it. However, as all three were determined to go, Raf had come up with a compromise.

However, searching for an entire city, reclaiming a stolen object, and escaping it would be no easy task. Four hours may not be long enough, leaving the teens stranded in Paris. Or four hours may be too long, having them run in circles as angry extremists chased after them. However, any more time would be pressing their luck.

"So where do we start, then?" Miko asked.

Jack frowned. He had been dealing with vicious Decepticons while Bumblebee had been ambushed. He had no idea where it happened, and where MECH may have gone. Thankfully, Raf offered a solution as always.

"I can hack into the traffic cams," the boy offered, as if was a simple task for him. "If we look over the footage, we can piece together what happened."

It was a good idea as any. The three slipped out of their hiding place then. Raf took the lead, as he was the only one that actually knew what they were looking for. It took time to find an intersection with a camera, and one that wasn't busy. Once they determined the coast was clear, Raf neared the pole and with the help of Jack's pocket knife, popped the panel open.

It was then the Hispanic boy attached and adjusted wires, plugging a couple into his computer, as if he been hacking into security cameras all his life. However, the elder teens crowded around as the laptop came to life, with dark, moving images flashing across the screen.

"I'm in!" Raf cheered, already tapping away.

Jack didn't hesitate, ordering, "Can you rewind it to a couple of days ago?"

The boy nodded, and the next few minutes were spent of the cars rapidly speeding backwards across the screen. Then Jack saw a flash of yellow.

"There!" he exclaimed, pointing. "That's Bumblebee!"

A flash of red.

"And that's Doc Knock," Miko observed. "Whoa, who wrecked him?"

Raf switched to different camera angles, watching as the Camaro sped away from the nearly-totaled Aston Martin. Eventually the chase ended when Bumblebee cut through an intersection, just before the light turned red and Knock Out was trapped in the resulting traffic. Jack instinctively leaned closer, watching as the scout navigated the next several streets without incident. Then—

"There's the construction site," he observed, stomach knotting.

"Okay, Bumblebee's pulling in…" Raf chimed, zooming in. "And… whoa!"

All three jumped as suddenly the screen turned into static.

"What happened?" Jack demanded.

"Lost the signal?" Miko guessed.

Raf adjusted his array of wires. "No, I don't think so."

Sure enough, the boy sped forward through the footage. There were several long, agonizing seconds of static before the picture returned, revealing a completely clear construction site.

"What just happened?" Miko squawked.

Raf tapped. "I think… the footage has been erased! It's like this for just over an hour…"

"Just enough time for MECH to hit 'Bee, clean up the mess, and take off," Jack observed solemnly.

Great. The only chance of catching MECH in the act, or any sort of solid evidence, was wiped out of existence. Their only chance of having any idea where the extremists may have gone. Now they were back to square one. Then Jack had an idea.

"Go back before the feed cuts off," he instructed. "When 'Bee is pulling in." Raf followed his instructions, once again filling the air with tense silence as he rewinded the footage until the bright Camaro came into view. "Stop!"

Raf paused the video. Jack leaned in as close as possible, squinting. He stared at the frozen frame, scrutinizing every detail, every pixel, trying to find the smallest of flaws. He noticed something.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

Raf zoomed in. "Looks like a… van?"

"An armored truck," Jack realized. "It slips into view the same time Bumblebee does."

"So… MECH did stuff his T-cog in the back of a van?" Miko commented.

The truck was dark, cool, grey color, rather than the army green the paramilitary group preferred. Just the right color not to attract attention, blending into the flow of heavy traffic. The vehicle was large, and Bumblebee was on the smaller side when it came to the gigantic proportions of the Cybertronians. Maybe…

"Go back to the footage from the other cameras. Try to find it," Jack ordered.

Raf did as he was told, flipping between windows, fast forwarding and rewinding footage, scrutinizing the streets of Paris from every angle. Jack's stomach knotted every time the mysterious truck appeared across the screen, then again and again and again. Just like—

"It shows up on every street Bumblebee is on," the army brat observed.

" _Ew_!" Miko gasped with a shudder. "They were _stalking_ him?"

"Waiting for just the right time to hit him and run," muttered Jack before giving another command. "Try looking after the footage is erased."

Raf fast-forwarded, repeating the process. The speeding robots-in-disguise and the crashing vehicles were replaced by police and ambulances, rushing to the chaotic scene. While the armored truck continued a casual pace away from the excitement. Without further instruction, the genius followed the shadowy vehicle, until—

"It's gone!" Miko gasped.

The truck had slowly turned around a corner, out of view. However, as Raf switched to the next camera, the vehicle was nowhere in sight. The boy looked just as confused as his friends, already tapping away and switching back and forth, trying to find out what he did wrong. Jack watched the entire time, until he noticed something else particular.

"It's not just the truck," he realized. "It's all the cars. Look." He pointed, following a sedan that made the same turn, only to vanish from existence as well. "They turn onto the street, but the camera doesn't pick them up."

"They go to another dimension?" Miko hypothesized.

"Or there's a blind spot," Raf suggested realistically.

"It's on a loop," said Jack. "Whatever's on that street, they don't want anyone to know about it."

"Such as a bunch of terrorists hanging out with an alien part?" piped Miko.

Jack stared at the mysterious, armor truck, reeking of calculated, malicious intent. Possessively hoarding the treasure that lay within. His stomach knotted, when he finally realized what it truly was.

They had found MECH.

* * *

"This is a bad idea…" Raf whined, the poor boy hunched and quivering.

"No one _asked_ you to come," Miko pointed out, still moving at a fast, purposeful stride.

"We should really call someone…"

"Who? The Autobots blocked our calls, NEST has _horrible_ customer service, and we don't know the number to the French police."

"Doesn't help we don't speak French," Jack muttered.

"Exactly!"

"B-But these are _bad guys_!" Raf protested. "We can't just walk up and knock on the front door! This is a _really_ bad idea…"

Ironic thing was, Jack agreed with him, even though this was his plan to begin with. They found the street where the mysterious truck vanished, but until they found a sign that read among the lines of "MECH was here," they had no solid evidence to present their case. To either Megatron or Optimus, not even the teenager knew. But he knew neither would come, or even answer, until they _proved_ MECH was really there.

Unfortunately, that meant the kids had to go investigate themselves. Miko was eager at the prospect. Raf was far more reluctant.

He lingered behind the group as the three traveled down the suspicious street. looked as unsuspecting as it did on the camera feed. It was next to the Seine River, the black water sloshing against the concrete barrier. Tall buildings formed a wall on one side of the narrow street. The architecture looked more modern than the other buildings Jack had seen. Most likely warehouses and other business facilities. Out of the way of the bustle of the inner city, completely innocent look, it was the perfect hiding place for a terrorist cell.

"This is the place alright," Miko observed. "Just one problem—"

"How do we know which building MECH is in?" Raf asked.

Jack frowned. As the truck vanished when it turned on this street, they had no way of knowing where it went next. Even if they did find the vehicle, there was no way to determine who it belonged to. It would take forever to search the every single warehouse, and Jack doubted they could just knock on a door.

Then Jack considered. If he learned anything from the last time he had met them, MECH was paranoid. No doubt they were on edge after their theft, on guard for any signs of retribution. If they were hiding on this very street, then it was likely the children were already being watched. When meant all Jack had to do was get their attention.

Before he could change his mind, the army brat pried a loose brick from a nearby wall. He ignored his friends' baffled looks, instead training his gaze on the nearest lamppost. Drawing a breath, Jack turned his body and cocked the rock behind his shoulder. Then he threw his weapon with all his might.

The fragile glass of the lamplight shattered, raining debris with a horrible noise. The teenager immediately spun on his heels, ignoring the others' yelps and ushering them into a nearby alleyway, ducking out of sight.

Just as a door slammed open and a curse filled the air.

"The fuck was that?" a man demanded, even though he received no reply.

The teenagers froze, not daring to move or even breathe, as the stranger moved forward to the destroyed lamppost. Through the gloom, the boy eyed the man that wore a pair of jeans and a jacket—with a Kevlar vest over it. Then his blood turned to ice as his gaze locked on the pistol strapped to the man's belt.

Never straying his gaze from the MECH agent, Jack reached out, fingers wrapping around a cold, metal pipe left abandoned in the alleyway. Ignoring the other two's hisses, he crept forward, balancing on his haunches and staying low to the ground. The man shifted. Jack lunged.

There was a sharp sound of impact as the pipe collided with the stranger's head, neck snapping at an odd angle. Jack felt a surge of satisfaction, that his desperate plan worked. Then a pit formed in his stomach when a murderous gaze glared back at him. Oh, scrap.

The army brat backpedaled, but he wasn't fast enough. Despite blood trickling from his brow, no doubt suffering a concussion, the extremist tackled into Jack's stomach. He wheezed as all the air was knocked out of him, the back of his head slamming into the concrete. Dazed, it took him several long moments to register large hands wrapping around his throat.

Jack's lungs screamed for air, and his vision darkened. The teenager instinctively flailed, kicking his legs, but his assaulter was effectively straddling his waist, keeping him in place. He clawed at the man's wrists, but the crushing grip did not relent. Stars danced across his vision as he watched those stone-cold eyes stare down at him, waiting to watch the life drain from his eyes—

Suddenly there was a _crack,_ the soldier letting out a gasp as his eyes bugged out of his skull. Then the grip loosened. Jack watched, frozen, as the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and then with a groan, he slumped on the other side of the boy. Revealing Miko standing over them, the pipe in hand.

"Hey, pipes, who knew?" the Japanese girl quipped, shrugging.

Jack gasped, falling limp against the ground. He heard frantic footsteps frantically approach him.

"Oh, my gosh! Jack, are you okay?" Raf gasped in a harsh whisper, staring down at the boy.

The wheezing teen forced himself to raise a thumb. "I'm good."

"We need to get out of here!"

"Why? We just found our guys!" Miko protested.

"Jack almost got killed!"

"I got a pipe, though."

"They have guns!"

"Shut up!" Jack snapped, forcing himself into a sitting position.

His head was pounding and his heart hammered in his chest. Maybe he was the one with the concussion. He looked at he unconscious man and dared to hold his breath, ignoring his burning lungs. No shouts, no gunshots. Apparently the soldier was the only one on duty.

"If this is the place, we have to check it out," the army brat decided.

Raf looked horrified. "Jack, we need to contact NEST. Maybe Lennox—"

"Can't help us," the boy interrupted. With a grunt, he forced himself to his feet. "We came all this way. We knew it wasn't going to be easy. There's no going back now."

The other teens replied with mixed expressions, but Jack ignored them as he scanned their surroundings. He noticed the door the MECH agent had burst open was still agape, unmoving and unguarded. Murmuring to his friends, the group cautiously approached it.

The boy paused, listening, for the echo of conversation, the shuffling of footsteps, and the clanking of equipment. But there was nothing. Cautiously, he pushed it open, just enough for a single eye to peer through.

He was only greeted with a blanket of darkness. He waited for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. Jack made out stacks and stacks of crates, haphazardly outlined against the blackness. The teen tried to scan the gigantic, spacious room, likely the main lobby of the warehouse. No tall, dark figures, no masked faces, no armed guards. There was _no one_.

Jack found himself opening the door wide, daring to take a bold step, only to be greeted eerie silence. It made his stomach knot and his hair stand on end. Did they enter the wrong building? No, that couldn't be right. The bruises on Jack's neck _proved_ they were in the right place. Then where was MECH?

The others trailed in after him, both glancing back and forth, only to be greeted by the same eerier darkness.

"There's no one here!" Raf gasped, eyes wide with confusion. "Where are they?"

It was a good question. If the trail ended here, but MECH was nowhere to be seen… Miko was the first to voice his conclusion.

"Aww," she wailed. "We missed the party?"

Jack would hardly describe a group of extremists plotting to steal alien technology a "party," but he didn't have the energy to correct Miko and bicker further.

"But if MECH left, why was that guard here?" Raf asked.

"He was probably left behind to cover their tracks," Jack hypothesized.

Although the elder teen said it in a somber tone, the young boy deflated.

"Then… we're too late?"

Jack's stomach knotted. It couldn't just end like this. They had come this far, they couldn't just turn back around. There had to be _something_ here. If MECH left someone behind, to cover for them, it meant there was something to hide. A single flaw that could damn their entire organization. A _trail._

"Look around," he decided. "Maybe we can find something that can tell us where they went."

"Like _that_?" Miko said, pointing to the other side of the warehouse.

Both boys followed her finger, only to blink at the sight that greeted them. The armored truck sat cold and lifeless. Instead of looking as unsuspecting and plain as it did on the cameras, in the darkness of the warehouse, it looked dangerous and menacing.

"It's worth a shot," Jack declared, with a determined frown.

His friends needed no invitation, walking across the empty space towards the massive vehicle. As they neared it, they became more cautious and slow, muscles tensing. Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The boy didn't know what he was bracing for. Either dozens of armed soldiers to pour out of the truck or for the vehicle to transform and start attack them.

But as Jack looked around, he saw no movement, no figures. He heard no sounds, no voices. The boy carefully pulled at the handles on the back of the truck. They were unlocked, but he had to use all the strength of his arms to pry the heavy, thick metal doors open.

It swung to the side, revealing a cold, steel cargo space. It was empty, save for a large crate sitting in the center. Squinting, the army brat clambered into the truck, his friends following on his heels. Jack was the first to cautiously approach the chest. He unlatched the locks and lifted the top, only for all three of them to gasp.

It was something Jack had never seen before. It looked like an oddly-shaped, makeshift sphere, misshapen by gears, loose wires, and bent metal. It had a silvery sheen, dull of any color, even as bright, glowing liquid leaked out of it. Energon. The army brat's blood grew cold, once his brain processed what he was just looking at.

Bumblebee's T-cog.

"Woohoo!" Miko cheered, throwing her hands in the air. "Three Musketeers one, MECH zero!"

A wide, beaming smile spread across Raf's face. Full of zealous relief, that he could finally help his best friend. Jack felt his own heart beating faster, a rush of excitement coursing through his veins. But wasn't because of the same celebratory mood as his friends, as a single thought kept churning in his mind.

 _They found it_.

It was impossible. Utterly impossible. MECH had risked their entire operation by attacking the Autobots in broad daylight. They would have fled the moment they had the chance, to avoid detection before anyone thought to look. The warehouse, obviously used recently and still filled with their supplies, was even abandoned. There was no reason they would abandon a T-cog.

Suddenly the cold steel around him disappeared, replaced by dark stone and ancient bones. The spark extractor within reach, deceptively inviting. Now it was the T-cog, abandoned, unguarded, _tempting_.

Jack recognized the rush that had seized his body. _Panic_.

"Guys, we need to move!" he yelped, already jumping to his feet and twisting around. While his friends gawked in confusion, he bolted towards the back of the truck. Only for the door to slam shut.

Jack skidded to a halt, just before his nose slapped into a metal, his ears ringing from the harsh bang that assaulted them. Miko and Raf were by his side in an instant. It was then there was a distinct _click_ , heavy and cold and cruel as it reverberated across the truck.

"No!"

"HEY!"

"Let us out!"

Raf desperately attempted to pull at the handle, but the door did not budge. Meanwhile Miko pounded against the metal with all her might, screeching at the top of her lungs. Jack only froze with horror.

It was then everything clicked into place. He remembered MECH had kidnapped him from NEST, fully expecting for the military to respond to the crime. In fact, they were _planning_ for it. No doubt they knew that their actions in Paris would cause unwanted attention, and they adjusted their operation to it. They _knew_ would be followed.

"Jack, w-what's going on?" Raf demanded in a quivering voice, more terrified than confused.

Suddenly the limited world around them trembled with a terrible growl. Jack flinched, recognizing it as the truck's engine, roaring to life. Sure enough, he dug his heels in as suddenly the cabin shifted, Raf and Miko even having to brace themselves against the wall. Cold horror turned Jack's veins into ice, and looked up at the blanched expressions of his friends.

MECH hadn't left in a hurry to avoid detection, leaving behind a sweep up crew to clean the mess. No. They waited patiently, hungrily, bracing to pounce on the team of special forces, a group of angry robots, or a trio of foolish teenagers to wander into their lair. And depose of the threat once and for all.

Jack realized.

The plan wasn't to steal Bumblebee's T-cog.

 _This_ was the plan.

"It's a trap. It's been a trap since the very beginning."

* * *

Jack didn't know how long the trio of teenagers battled the door. At first they took turns, trying to force the metal door open. Then they worked as one, tackling and ramming and pounding against the cramped, metal box they were stuck in until exhaustion seeped into their limbs.

However, they used whatever energy they had left to protest, yell, and scream. Miko was by far the loudest of the trio and latest the longest, shrieking obscenities and threats that Jack wasn't sure their captors heard. Not once did they receive a reply, not even a grumbling voice or a bang or any sound from the outside world. The only noise was the growling of engine, a constant rumble that was the only indication what they were actually in.

Of course, they tried their cell phones, only for the words "no service" to glare back at them, and a taunting beep whenever they made a call anyway. Jack's stomach knotted. If the truck was designed to hide a Cybertronian's radioactive signature, then it could block a cell phone signal.

Soon even Miko quieted down, and they fell into an air of misery. Jack leaned against the wall, arms crossed defensively over his chest. Raf curled into a little ball, silence save for the small whimpers that escaped every once in a while. Miko was like a caged lion, growling and hissing as she paced restlessly back and forth, fists by her side. Occasionally she would try to goad their captors, but of course, got no reply.

Jack wondered if anyone even knew they were trapped inside the vehicle. As thick as the reinforced metal was, he wouldn't be surprised if it was soundproof, or at least horribly muffled. Then he realized it was unlikely. Their surroundings had been deathly silent, deathly still, until the moment they stepped into the truck. They were being _watched_ , their attackers waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. The armored vehicle was not only a mode of transportation. It was a _prison_.

Jack then began to reason why MECH (oh, it _had_ to be MECH), why bothered to keep them alive. Even when he was taken into their custody, Silas had made it clear he had no intention to let his prisoner live more than twenty-four hours. It was unlikely they were expecting snooping kids to walk in on their clever trap. No doubt they had prepared for a demolition force. But instead of shooting the teenagers where they stood (when the trio didn't even _see_ them), they merely snatched them up like a feral cat walking into a cage full of food.

It didn't make any sense.

Hours ticked by. Jack felt the truck shifting back and forth, likely navigating the tight streets of Paris, and then it only rumbled as it glided around smooth road. The vehicle had paused a couple times, the engine even turning off. Both times all three teenagers froze, tensed, and held their breath, braced for whatever greeted them. Only for the engine to come back to life and their tight prison to shudder once again. They had stopped to refuel, Jack realized. He judged they must have left the city, and driving somewhere _far_ away, but with no windows, he had no way of judging what was happening outside.

Eventually it became late enough the group no longer had the energy to stay awake. Raf was the first to go, his eyes red and puffy and his head nodding. He fought sleep even when he was still shaking with fear. Jack saw it cruel to force him to stay awake, when he was obviously stressed and exhausted. After some gentle coaxing, the fifteen-year-old boy slumped against his shoulder.

Miko was far more restless, fueled by anger more than anything, and had always been a night owl. However, she had used up all her energy in her fits and soon she traveled to Jack's other side and collapsed against him. The eldest found himself effectively pinned between his exhausted and terrified friends, but could not find the will to follow their example.

His stomach was knotted too tightly and his muscles were too tense. Every time he closed his eyes, they would open on their own accord. For once he was grateful of his insomnia. Last thing he needed was to close his eyes and open them to a faceless glare. Eventually Jack grew desperate enough to close his eyes and reach out through the blood-bond. Either he was too stressed to focus properly or Megatron was ignoring him (again), because he was only greeted with inky blackness.

Jack sighed and snuggled in the pile of his friends, using their warmth as his only comfort. Eventually the boy felt the organs in his stomach resettle and at first he thought he imagined it, but their miserable little box seemed _tilted_. An incline, then. Where was MECH _taking_ them?

More hours came and went. Jack's only company was the steady breathing of Miko and Raf, the snarls of the truck, and a still bloody T-cog. Eventually the silence stretched on for so long a ring tormented his hearing, making all the harder to sleep. Even though, Jack felt the darkness close around his vision several times, his consciousness almost falling into the abyss.

Only to jar awake when the world suddenly came to a halt.

Jack blinked, unconsciousness still trying to seize his mind, but his senses were already detecting his surroundings. Only for the rumble that had accompanied him for several, horribly long hours to vanish. Suddenly the box shuddered with an aggressive force, like a door being slammed shut. Then Jack heard a new sound.

Garble, but it was raised and stressed, like— _Voices_.

"Guys, wake up," Jack murmured, gently nudging his friends.

Both moaned and cuddled closer in protest. After a few more persistent shakes, Raf blinked his eyes open and Miko raised her head without even opening her eyes. Both gasped in disorientation, but after a few moments, the panicked fog in their eyes was replaced by the clarity of realization. But no less scared and confused.

"Where are we?" Raf murmured.

"I don't know," Jack whispered back. More voices drifted from the walls around them, still raised enough to pierce their prison.

"What's the plan?" Miko hissed.

"Still thinking."

Jack didn't have one, even after sitting in the deafening silence alone for hours. With no idea where they were going or what they would face, he couldn't form one.

"We need to get the jump on them somehow!" Miko protested in a whisper-like hiss.

Then Jack had an idea.

The army brat heard the latch of the lock being removed, following by the long, shrill squeak of the door being opened. It took all his willpower not to swallow, especially when he thought he heard the clicking of guns. Then a shuffling sound and heavy boots on metal. Miko's grip around his hand tightened, but Jack did not dare open his eyes. Even when a rough hand seized his shoulder, shaking him.

"Hey, kid, rise and shine," came a bark.

Only then did Jack snap his eyes open.

Before the two MECH soldiers above him could react, he raised his knees to his chest. With a yell, the teenager sent his heels into the closest man's chest, sending him stumbling over the chest and into the opposite wall. Miko was already jumping to her feet, lithely stepping out of the other extremist's reach. When he came too close, the Japanese girl kicked out, her boot colliding with the man's groin.

There was a howl of agony as he collapsed onto the ground, doubled over, but Jack didn't pay any mind. Finally the fight or flight instinct that had laid dormant for the last eight hours awakened, and the boy did not dare disobey. He bolted out of the truck, his shoes landed on solid ground, and lunged forward.

Only to slam into a tall, unmoving figure. Jack wheezed as he collided with something _hard_ , and before he had the chance to ricochet off the object, a crushing, iron grip seized both his arms. The army brat hissed, and forced himself to glare up, only to meet cold, black eyes.

Silas.

* * *

 **Meh, rewrote this chapter multiple times and I'm still not satisfied with it. However, next chapter will be much more interesting. ;)**


	10. Operation: Bumblebee (Part 2)

**So with this update I am out of a surplus of chapters. School is demanding most of my time (and energy), so I do not have as much time writing as I would like. That said, I will no longer be able to keep up an updating schedule. This story is by no means going on hiatus, but I cannot guarantee when the next chapter will be up.**

 **Guest: Though Pretenders are an interesting concept, I have no intention to include any in Darkness.**

 **Stranger Child: The main reason why Megatron does not admit MECH is a threat is frankly because he is arrogant. Though he was held captive by humans, he excuses that only happened because he was rendered helpless after crash-landing on Earth. When he finally broke free, he proceeded to destroy Sector Seven, establishing his claim that he is mightier than the human race. This carries over to the Decepticon belief that humans are mere insects, and cannot possibly threaten Cybertronians. According to Megatron, Breakdown was merely captured because he was weaker than those that attacked him.**

* * *

The leader of MECH was easily twice Jack's size, a full head taller than him and his shoulders were twice as broad. His white hair of age and stress was cut short to his scalp. His strong, sharp features that may have been considered handsome were ruined by ugly, jagged scars. Caused by the same ambush that destroyed his brothers-in-arms.

"Well, _what_ do we have here?" Silas sneered down at him, making Jack freeze.

Behind him, he heard Miko's squeal of protest as she was tackled to the floor and Raf's whimper as he was shoved up against the wall of the truck. Jack couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, to turn, to help his friends, only for fingers to seize his chin and forcefully pivot his head back.

"Nah-ah," Silas chided sharply. Jack curled his lip in the beginnings of a snarl, but the MECH leader ignored it as he eyed his prize. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his voice to carry over the sounds of struggling to address the ring of soldiers around them. "It seems a rat has stuck its nose where it doesn't belong. Rather, a _pack_ of rats."

"Let them go," Jack demanded automatically, low enough only his captor could hear.

"You are no position to make demands here, _brat_." It was then Silas's sneer widened into a nasty smile. Suddenly the man leaned forward, and the boy flinched when he felt hot breath on his ear as the terrorist whispered, "Thank you for saving us the trouble. Now I don't have to worry about hunting you down."

What? Before Jack could even think of a reply, he was shoved backwards where two pairs of hands seized them. The boy automatically struggled, but his new captors were twice as strong as him, effectively keeping him in place. Instead, he looked around.

Sure enough, night had fallen, having a black blanket cover the sky. He quickly understood where the incline came from. Sharp, guarding mountains surrounded them, outlined against the black night. The armored truck had parked in the center of a cluster of buildings. They were plain and boring, looking like broad warehouses more than anything. Merely functional enough to suit MECH's needs, and nothing more.

Where were they? Jack quickly tried to remember the last time he looked at a map of Europe. Mountains, only several hours away from Paris. The Alps?

"Cuff them," Silas ordered, already moving past the captured teenagers.

Jack grunted as his arms were wrenched behind his back and cold, sharp metal was tightly bound around his wrists. Judging by the whines and hisses beside him, Raf and Miko were receiving the same treatment. Silas didn't spare them a glance, observing a group of technicians pulled out the chest. They dropped it at their commander's feet, instantly unlatching the top.

Silas stared hungrily as the T-cog presented to him, like he was offered a free Thanksgiving dinner instead of something that was once part of a sentient being. Instead of being memorized by the device, he turned to one of the engineers.

"Get to it."

"Yes, sir," the man hummed.

The group did not have to be told twice, collecting the chest and scurrying away. It was then a soldier hovering near Silas decided to near his leader.

"What about them?"

Jack merely glared when the ex-Navy SEAL finally turned his attention back to his prisoners. His eyes flicked over all three of them, but the army brat felt his skin crawl as that frigid gaze lingered him a moment longer.

Finally, Silas decided, "Take them somewhere quiet and out of the way. I don't want them making any noise."

While the three teenagers glanced at each other apprehensively, the lieutenant merely nodded. Without further ceremony, his captors roughly tugged him forward. The group was half-dragged, half-ushered towards the closest building. Jack noticed they were being escorted to a different entrance than Silas and Bumblebee's T-cog. He gritted his teeth, but he could not protest or resist as the pair of extremists forced him through a metal door.

While it was cool outside, the frigid air conditioning made him shiver. The halls were blank and bleak. The walls were a dull, off-white concrete and the lighting was dim with bulbs few and far between. It was so gloomy Jack had a hard time seeing the far end of the corridor.

"Cheery place," he muttered. And he thought the _Nemesis_ 's interior was depressing.

"Quiet," one of his captors ordered, even lightly cuffing him upside the head.

Jack wisely shut up after that, until he let out a cry as he was roughly shoved inside a random room. Unable to break his fall, he slammed face-first onto the ground with a grunt. He heard rather than saw Miko and Raf land beside him. Almost the same time they crashed, the door slammed shut behind them.

"You're just going to leave us here?" Miko wailed. " _Rude_!"

Jack seethed as he tried to awkwardly stand up. His captors hadn't bothered to uncuff them, and the odd distribution of weight and the lack of his arms made it awkward to move. Miko and Raf were able to wiggle to their feet as well.

Jack quickly scanned the room, only to find it barren save for a handful of forgotten crates. Likely it was an extra storage, just large enough for them to walk for a few paces, and nothing more. There were no windows or doors, the only exit being the one they were just shoved through. No doubt the only door was locked and guarded.

Like Silas had said, MECH had merely shoved them in here to keep them out of the way. He was much more interested in his newest prize. But it was only a matter of time the MECH leader turned his attention back to his captives.

"We need to get out of here before Silas figures out what to do with us," said Jack, fruitless pulled at his bonds.

"Ya think?" Miko snapped.

Getting the hint, Jack sighed. He internally cringed, trying to formulate a plan, a solution, but came up with nothing. They _had_ nothing. What—

Unlatched cuffs landed at his feet.

Jack stared for a full thirty seconds before he glanced up. Only to see Miko, her unbound hands on her hips, smirking triumphantly. Both boys stared.

"How did you—" Jack started, but fumbled to finish the sentence, horribly confused.

The girl raised a bedazzled piece of flimsy metal, singing, "~Hair clip!~"

Jack couldn't even process a reply. Raf, thankfully, could.

"Hurry and uncuff us!" the Hispanic boy pleaded, already turning around so she could reach his pinned wrists.

"Wait," Jack spoke up, just as Miko raised her makeshift key to free her friend. Both gave him baffled looks. "I have an idea."

* * *

It was only a few moments later Miko was yelling almost to the top of her lungs, arms behind her back, feet kicking against the metal door.

"HHHEEEY! LET US OOOOUT!" she screeched. "Come in here and show us your ugly faces, you spineless jerks! I know you can hear me! ANSWER MEEE!"

Jack was convinced he was going to go deaf when _finally_ the door violently swung open, slamming against the wall with a bang. It revealed a masked soldier, but the boy could sense his scathing glare behind the tinted visor. The boy instantly tensed at the man's arrival, moving out of the extremist's peripheral vision as he stormed into the room.

"For the love of God, _shut up_!" the MECH agent seethed, matching up to Miko with balled up fists.

"Or what?" the girl challenged, not missing a beat as she glared right back.

"Or I'm going to shut that mouth of yours for you!"

Despite the broad-shoulder soldier was twice her size, Miko was unfazed. "Ha! I like to see you try, Stormtrooper."

Jack froze as the soldier bristled, and for a moment he was afraid the man was actually going to hit her.

"Oh, just wait until Silas gives the word, and I _will_ ," he growled in a low, threatening tone, but Miko just flipped her dyed bangs dismissively.

Jack moved forward.

"Too bad you'll never get the chance," the girl continued, smiling triumphantly now.

"Why's that?'

"Because you're really easy to distract."

The soldier realized his mistake too late. He had his glare settled on Miko the entire time, his back turned to the other boys and completely forgetting about their existence. He moved to twist around, but Jack was faster.

He snatched the handle of the pistol holstered to the soldier's belt. As the man turned around, it gave the perfect angle for Jack to pull forward and upward, releasing the weapon from its confines. He leaped back before assaulting hands could snatch him, raising the pistol towards the agent.

"On your knees and hands behind your back, would you please," Jack said in a fake polite tone, his smile matching Miko's.

The soldier froze at the sight of the cold barrel. Despite the fact he was wearing full body armor, he did not seem to want to take his chances at point-blank range. Obviously the man had merely volunteered for guard duty, and was not expecting to be outwitted by three nosy teenagers.

Covered gaze never leaving the gun in Jack's hand, the MECH agent slowly slunk to his knees and pressed his wrists together. Raf took that as his que, clasping the cuffs into place.

"So just stay quiet for a few minutes, and we'll get out of your hair," Jack assured. "Unless you want to explain to Silas how you ended up like this."

The soldier stiffened at that, no doubt fearing his leader's wrath, allowing the teenager to move forward and pull open the door.

"Let's go."

* * *

"H-how are we going to get out of here?" Raf asked in a shaking voice.

"Hopefully MECH won't be expecting any trouble from us," Jack replied, "so there won't be so many guards."

"No. _How_ are we going to get home?"

Then Jack realized. Raf had set the timer, repeatedly reminded them of their deadline, their only transportation home. That the groundbridge would open in four hours. They had been in France, or wherever they were now, for _nine_.

The trio exchanged alarmed glanced and Jack swallowed. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

With that, they moved on. The compound was not as complex as the Pentagon or the last MECH base, but it was larger. The teenagers walked at a brisk pace, while at the same time trying to stay quiet. Jack led the way, checking if the coast was clear twice before ushering his friends onward. Thankfully they did not have run-ins with any guards, but there was a close call when Miko stepped into a hallway, only to find a soldier down at the other end. With a quiet squeak, she jumped back before the agent turned his head.

Finally, the tense silence ended when Raf whispered, "Do you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Miko piped, cocking her head. Thanks to listening to shriek metal at deafening volumes for years, Jack had caught on even at sixteen, she did not have the best ears.

However, the army brat paused and sharpened his hearing. At first, he almost agreed with Miko, that there was nothing, then he heard it. A high-pitched squeal, followed by an ugly grinding noise.

"Sounds like construction, kind of," he murmured.

"MECH's building a resort?" Miko hypothesized.

"Hush."

Jack listened again. There were certainly the roars of machinery, but instead of the sounds of crushing concrete or room-shaking bangs, the noises sounded _metallic_. And they were close.

"Come on," Jack murmured.

Probably against his better judgement, they moved _toward_ the noise. But if lead somewhere, if they could use it to escape—

Soon they came to a broad steel door, that Jack opened as hesitantly as the one earlier that night. Instead of being greeted by silence, the boy was assaulted by a racket of noise. The distance buzz he and his friends turned into an ear-splitting screeches that had him wincing, Raf covering his ears, and Miko unfazed.

However, all three instinctively flinched when they recognized dark, masked silhouettes. Reacting quickly, Jack leaped out of sight and skidded behind the closest stack of barrels. Only when he accidently clanged against the metal shell, he heard a sloshing noise within. He blinked, glancing down, only to see a familiar symbol and a memory flashed before his eyes.

 _On one side of the hangar was a collection of metal barrels, some standing alone while others were stacked in neat piles. There was a technician weaving a forklift between them, as another snapped orders. The vehicles cut too close to a stack more than once. Which would of have disastrous consequences, as Jack stared at the deadly symbol plastered on each barrel._

 _Biohazard._

Jack's stomach twisted. When he was rescued by NEST, he had learned just what was in those containers.

Energon.

But… NEST confiscated it all in the former base. Where was MECH getting it all? _Why_ were they getting it?

Slowly, cautiously, Jack glanced around his hiding place, his friends following his example. Only for all three to gasp and their body to turn rigid. It took a full minute for Jack's brain to translate what he was looking at, but it looked so misplaced, so odd, it refused to except it.

In the back of the giant hangar, was a structure at least two-stories tall. At first, it looked like a tangled mess of wires, sewn together with no purpose or order. They were protected by haphazardly placed titanium plating. It did poorly to completely cover the structure, leaving circuitry and joints exposed. Then Jack noticed two dull, black lights staring blankly at the world.

It was only then Jack realized was he was looking at.

A robot, standing tall and straight with legs and arms and a head and everything.

"What _is_ that?" Miko gasped in a harsh whisper, saying what was on everyone's minds.

Jack couldn't answer her, too horrified and too transfixed on the sight. A team of technicians were surrounding the thing, using scaffolds and ladders to reach the upper parts of the robot. Several wore thick armored masked and held flaming welders, sparks flying in every direction as the tool was dragged across the metal hide.

Then the boy noticed a familiar figure. Shoulders squared, feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back. Silas stood a safe distance from the busy workers, but watched them with an intense scrutiny. When the last of the welds were complete, one of the technicians approached his critical leader.

"The instillation of the transformation cog is complete, sir," he reported.

Jack's mind reeled. Instillation? Did that mean Bumblebee's T-cog was _in_ that thing? Then he did a double take. The technician called it by its true name.

" _I doubt the primitive fools knew what they even took. Likely they merely wanted to take it as a toy."_

 _How_ did they know?

Silas nodded. "Standby for beta test."

"What's going on?" Raf demanded in a hiss. For a moment, Jack didn't respond.

" _It looks like MECH was trying to build their own little factory,"_ Fowler had informed him, as the boy was collapsed against the hospital bed after narrowly surviving his encounter. " _Found a storage of energon and a laboratory. It looks like they were trying to reverse engineer the Cybertronian weaponry—we think."_

It was then the blood in Jack's veins turned into ice as frigid realization. Like the pieces of a sick, twisted puzzle, everything clicked into place. No, there was no _way_ …

"Jack, what's wrong?" Raf whispered, detecting his distress.

Jack's mouth merely gaped, as the boy tried several times to speak, but no sound came out. Not even he knew what he wanted to say, but he never had the chance.

Suddenly, he heard a distance rumble, like thunder. He froze as it rolled across the air, only growing louder and louder. Suddenly the barrels rattled underneath his fingertips. Then Jack _felt_ it. A vibration in his chest, as powerful as it was familiar. A sensation he had felt _countless_ times, every time he passed the airfield in whatever base his father was stationed in.

The engines of a jet.

Miko and Raf recognized it, too,. They blinked out of their stupor, both perking up at the near deafening noise. Jack glanced around, only for his heart to seize in horror.

The MECH agents in the room hardly reacted to the noise. The technicians still fiddled with the project _,_ soldiers still idly patrolled the grounds. Silas's gaze never wavered. Then, what—

Jack glanced to the side of the hangar, doors moved aside to the open air. Showing a black shape streaking across the night sky, its outline hardly noticeable against the darkness. Jack only noticed it because it made a sharp, impossible turn, nose pivoting right for the hangar. The jet was going so fast that the army brat thought would it would crash into the building. But it never happened.

The F-22 Lockheed Martin Raptor transformed.

Long, dangerously sharp talons flashed in the darkness. Broad, proud wings flared. A tall, lean figure landed gracefully on the ground, high-heeled thrusters muffled the clap of impact as much as possible. A scathing crimson glare of resentment and greed pierced the darkness.

Starscream.

Jack remembered the last time he had seen the Decepticon second-in-command. It was down in the mines, when Jack and Arcee had walked in on Megatron and Starscream, fusion cannon posed to execute the treacherous snake. Jack vaguely recalled Starscream used the resulting battle to escape, but since then… there had been no sign of the Air Commander. Until now.

Instead of raising the alarm or a gun, the MECH agents hardly stirred. Only a few glanced in the Deceptcon's direction, either glaring in hate or staring in awe. Silas did not twitch. Then Jack's stomach knotted when he realized. Raf and Miko figured it out, too, despite they were in as much shock as he was.

"The 'Cons are working with MECH?" Miko gasped.

"No," Jack shook his head. Megatron would _never_ ally with humans. " _Starscream_ is working with MECH."

He heard their gasps, but his gaze never left the exiled Decepticon. Starscream wasn't even bothering to try to appear small around the tiny humans. He stood up straight and tall, wings raised high, as he confidently strutted forward. It wasn't until Starscream's thrusters stepped beside Silas did the man finally peer over his shoulder. No. _Glare_ over his shoulder.

"You're late," he barked, annoyed venom filling his voice.

"I apologize," Starscream drawled, thought his tone sounded insincere. "You told me your lackies would arrive with the T-cog a solar— _a day_ ago. I grew a little restless waiting."

Silas's reply was curt. "They had to ensure they weren't followed."

"And were they?"

The MECH leader did not answer to that, leaving Starscream to form his own conclusion.

"Ah, the Autobots caught on to your little scheme, didn't they?" the Decepticon practically giggled. "What do you know, they came on quicker than I thought. Grounders are usually so slow and dull, compared to the sharp wit and speed of a flyer—"

"It wasn't the Autobots," Silas muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in boredom.

Starscream moved onto the next theory. "It was their NEST, wasn't it?" When he received no reply, the Seeker went on, "I often advised Megatron to seek out _human_ allies. After all, it seems to provide the Autobots with an occasional edge."

"Do you _ever_ stop talking?"

"Now, with your resources and my insider knowledge, we will soon have our army."

The terrorist glared.

" _Your_ army," Starscream corrected.

"What are they up to?" Miko asked, confused at the two's banter.

It was then Jack was aware of his friends' gaze on him. He swallowed thickly.

"They're…" Just _thinking_ it was absurd. "They're making their own Transformer."

There was no gasp or wail. Miko and Raf merely went unnatural stiff, eyes widening and skin paling. They merely stared at him, frozen.

Raf made a choked noise as he tried to speak, until finally he forced out, "B-But that's—"

" _I know_ ," Jack cut in.

"We can't just let them get away that!" Miko protested. "What are we going to do?"

Jack thought. The D.N.G.S. was one thing. If MECH had a transforming robot, it would be disaster. It could disguise itself as any vehicle—any _military_ vehicle—and infiltrate any instillation without trouble. Then it was free to do as much damage as possible, and disappear before anyone had any idea what happened.

If MECH was planning to make an _army,_ with _Starscream_.

The exiled Decepticon was helping them. He was _helping_ MECH build their own Cybertronian. Something that was against reasoning, against _nature_. Starscream had meddled with dark energon and raised Skyquake from the dead in a desperate attempt to usurp Megatron, but Jack never expected the snake to dabble in something so _taboo_. The Seeker had to have known it was impossible. Only the Well of Allsparks could give a spark to a protoform.

MECH would only have a lifeless husk. It would be a tool, a thing. A _robot_.

Then looking in that haughty, self-assured sneer, Jack realized. Starscream _did_ know that. He had no interest in orchestrating a miracle. He merely wanted MECH's energon and spoils for himself.

Jack made a decision.

"You two get out of here," he ordered, turned to his friends. "Get as much distance between you and MECH as you can.

" _What?"_ Raf and Miko exclaimed simultaneously.

"We can't just break up the band!"

"No, we're not just going leave you! Not this time!"

"This isn't a debate," Jack hissed lowly. "Last time I tried to run away from MECH, they just hunted me down and dragged me back. That's what they are going to do to all three of us if we try to make a break for it." Looking at the terror in his friends' eyes, he went on, "We have to keep them busy, just long enough for us to get away and find help."

"But why _you_?" Miko cried.

"Because I am the one with the best chance of getting MECH's attention."

"Jack—" Raf sobbed.

"I'll be okay," the boy replied, though he had to find the energy to make his voice sound reassuring. "You two just get out of here!" Both just frowned, unmoving. Jack gritted his teeth and couldn't help from snapping lowly, " _Go_!"

Miko and Raf flinched at that. They were perfectly still, for several, long, long moments. Then finally, slowly and reluctantly, they moved. Looking torn, they pulled away from their hiding place, quickly ducking to the next. Most of the soldiers' attention were either on the contraption that took up the hangar or on Starscream, oblivious to the interlopers' presence. Jack had to keep it that way.

He scanned the gigant machine, trying to find the tiniest detail, the tiniest flaw. There was a line connecting the artificial _Transformer_ to a glass tank of energon. Jack watched the container drain, as the robot hummed louder and louder, glowing brighter and brighter. As energon filled its fuel lines.

Energon was not just the fuel of all Cybertronian tech, but it was part of their life source. A T-cog wasn't technology, it was _biology_. It would reject any other fuel source. Jack wondered just how much MECH had collected, to satisfy their significant demand. While the Autobots were still forced to dig up scraps.

Without his permission, the image of the energon-poisoned soldier flashed across his eyes. His body burned, eroded, from the combustible compound, that would cause a chain reaction with just a—

Jack realized what he had to do.

Before _logic_ could make him change his mind, he moved forward, staying low to the ground and keeping his steps quick and silent. He moved from one cover to the next, bracing all his muscles, but nothing happened. The robot's growl only turned into a roar of machinery.

Jack skidded to halt, out of sight. Without wasting another moment, he gripped the wide cable, feeling the heat of the processed energon underneath the rubber insulation. He pulled out his pocket knife, forcing the tip into the line with all his might. The tubing was thick and flexible, refusing to cut open, but Jack sawed with all his might.

"Come on, come on," he hissed. He didn't have much time—

He let out a relieved gasp as the line split, with glowing blue essence bleeding forth. He did it! Now he just had to—

It was then razor-sharp talons filled his vision. Jack yelled and reared back, only to find himself pinned between the wall and a cold servo. Crimson optics flared.

"My, my, isn't this a treat," Starscream purred. "'Jack,' is it?"

The army brat flinched when bright red light assaulted his ears and razor-sharp fangs flashed. Before he could even think of a reply, several distinct _clicks_ filled the air. His skin crawled as he saw MECH soldiers forming a tight ring around him, Silas marching up with an irritated look. At the MECH leader's glare, Starscream promptly released his catch. Jack didn't even had time to bolt when two pairs of hands seized his shoulders, keeping him in place. The teen growled as Silas's hard gaze flicked back and forth, before finally settling on his prisoner.

"Where are the other two?" he demanded, sounding more annoyed than upset.

"What other two?" Jack replied automatically.

Silas gestured and a solid fist was rammed into the boy's stomach. Jack wheezed as pain exploded from his abdomen and all the air was ripped from his lungs. He tried to double over, only for his captors to shove him back against the wall.

Silas was already moving on to the next question. "How did you get over here?"

"You _really_ need to start hiring smarter people."

The next punch collided with the side of his face. Jack wailed as white flashed across his vision. He thought he heard a sadistic chuckle that suspiciously sounded like Starscream, but he wasn't sure.

"HEY, SCREAMY!"

Suddenly ice-cold fear pierced the fog of pain surrounding Jack's eyes. Snapping his eyes open, he looked up, only to see familiar figure on the other side of the warehouse, just outside the open door. Miko was standing in full view, glaring defiantly at the exiled Decepticon.

Starscream just chuckled, "Ah, isn't that convenient."

"Miko, what are you doing?!" Jack roared.

"Saving you life!" the cocky girl replied.

"Just ru—gah!"

His desperate order was cut off with a gag as one of his captor punched him in the gut again.

"Get her," Silas ordered crisply.

Several soldiers took off without hesitation. They hadn't even took a step before Miko whirled around and vanished out of sight. To escape, to get captured, or get killed, Jack did not know. Panic seized his heart.

No, no, no!

Miko and Raf had to get away, if they had any chance of all three surviving this nightmare. He couldn't let them get hurt. He couldn't let these _insects_ succeed!

Jack felt a rush of heat fill his veins. Suddenly the world sharpened, allowing him to see each and every one of his captors. With a growl, he shoved forward, pushing against the hands holding him against the wall. There was a snarl in reply, and this time he saw the punch coming for his face. Jack forced one hand free, catching the assaulting limb by the wrist.

"What the—" the agent gasped, but the teen didn't allow him to finish his sentence.

He twisted his captor's arm, the wrong way, provoking a sharp cry. Acting quickly, he sent a solid kick to his abdomen, in vengeance of the abuse of his own. The soldier stumbled back, forcing his other captor to compensate. Jack would not have it.

His struck his fist out, colliding with the agent's jaw, sending him to the floor. The teen felt his heart hammering in his chest, pumping fresh energy throughout his body. The world, clear a matter of moments ago, muted. Jack could just barely see through the purple haze of several MECH agents recoiling from the event. Even Silas, a safe distance away, gaped.

Suddenly there was a movement in the corner of his vision and the teen lunged forward, just as talons took up the space he once occupied. Starscream snarled.

Then arms wrapped around his middle, pinning his arms to his side. The army brat hissed, flailing in the burly soldier's grip. The hold only tightened, placing painful pressure on his lungs. He wheezed and darkness appeared on the edges of his vision.

No! He would not be defeated so easily!

With a hiss, Jack rammed his head back, colliding the back of his skull with his assaulter's nose. There was a wail of pain and the crushing grip relented. The boy still had to use all his strength to tear himself free, stumbling forward as he tried to regain his balance. Only to be greeted with the barrel of a gun.

Jack froze underneath Silas's cold glare.

"Are you done yet?" the man drawled.

"No," Jack snarled.

The teenager pounced. Before Silas could react, he wrapped his hand around the pistol, forcing it to the side, just as a deafening clap of thunder assaulted the boy's ears. He couldn't help but flinch, allowing Silas to shove into him. Jack dug his heels in, but he became painfully aware who was the stronger one as he was forced back several steps.

Determined, the boy tugged, and the gun ripped free. It settled all too easily in his hands. He sensed another movement, and ducked out of the way before Silas could regain his hold on him. Jack skidded a safe distance away, raising his newfound weapon, both palms wrapped around the handle.

His vision narrowed to that sharp, focused view, settling on the figure that had tormented him for so long. Silas. The vermin had desecrated his kind. It was only fair to return the favor. However, the man hardly flinched, and there was a squawk of laughter above him.

"What are you going to do, Jack?" Starscream chuckled. "Shoot us all at once? Are you going to shoot _me_?"

For once, the arrogant traitor had a right not to be concerned. To a Cybertronian, a lead bullet would do as much damage as a mosquito. Then Jack's gaze flickered to the Transformer behind him. Such an abomination should not be allowed to function. Then he glanced at the fuel line he had cut, still leaking precious energon.

"No, I'm not," the boy declared.

Ignoring baffled stares, he turned, aiming his gun. Shooting the line directly would do nothing, but the bullet was bound to ricochet off the solid concrete next to it. Silas followed his movement and his eyes went wide with horror.

" _No_!"

Jack fired.

The reaction was instantaneous. Energon only needed a single spark to combust, and the chain reaction happened too quickly for any human to see with the naked eye.

He felt a force slam against his chest, ripping all the air out of his lungs. He crashed into the solid ground, hard, and pain erupted from his skull and his shoulder. His cry was drowned out by the roar of an almighty thunder, that shattered his ear drums. Waves of intense heat rolled across his body, right through his clothing and burning against his skin. Jack braced, waiting for the end to come.

Only it never did.

As soon as the explosion of sensations began, it came to a jarring halt. The violet hues were gone, replaced by a dark, thick haze that covered his eyes. He only saw flicker of movement across his vision. The rest of the world had vanished, replaced by a sharp, deafening ring. Jack winced when suddenly there was a second thunder, not as monstrous as the first, but made the ground beneath him tremble.

He felt something wrap around him. There was no warmth, only cold claws, yet it was careful in false gentleness, as it plucked him from the ground. Jack could not move if he wanted to. His limbs were heavy with pain and numbness. His head hung loosely. Darkness flickered across his vision.

 _ **Jack? What—**_

Then were was a sound, harsh and deep and smug. It took him several long seconds to decipher it.

"Got you now, fleshling."


	11. Chimera

**Longest chapter yet. Whoo!**

* * *

 _The target was in their sights, now._

 _They had already secured dozens of compounds. No one had stopped them, save for a couple of amateurs and a single military vehicle. At the rate they had been going, they would be back at the base by dawn. They could go home, and bring the pride back to their country._

 _The door blew in easily, the newly made entrance wide and inviting. He didn't hesitate to give the order. He realized his mistake too late._

 _"_ _Commander!"_

 _Leland Bishop screamed as he was consumed by flames._

Silas snapped his eyes open with a gasp of air. Only to suck in the thick debris of smoke. Instantly his muscles seized as years of instinct kicked in—to run, to fight, or to kill. Whatever came first.

But instead of feeling the hot sands of Afghanistan beneath him or hearing the yells of another language, he was greeted with cold concrete and wails of dismay. What—

"Silas, sir!"

A voice, muffled and muted, blocked out by the horrible ringing in his ears. It took him a full minute, his burning eyes staring at the black haze, to register the name. The alias. Leland Bishop died with his team.

Silas managed to cough up a reply, forcing himself into a sitting position. Thick smoke lingered in the air, but he was able to make out the crimson light of flames and a blackened wall a distance away. It was then the cruel clutches of the past released him, and he was brought back to reality.

He was in the facility located in the French Alps, on the French-Italian border. Their base of operations for Project Chimera, where they would—

Silas's body seized again. _No._ The man looked at the flames, only to see the fire consuming at a dark, burnt, _destroyed_ shell. The blaze ate hungrily at oil in the robot's fuel lines. Metallic groans and roars filled the air, like a monster fighting for its last breath. Shrapnel and debris covered the floor. Silas had been standing on the edge of the blast, so its shockwave had merely knocked him off his feet. Others were not so lucky.

Silas could only stare at the mess. _Months_ of effort, from scouring for scraps of metal and resources, _wasted_. Because of that _brat_ —

Wait. Where was he?!

The MECH leader snapped his sharp gaze back and forth, looking for the pesky teenager—Suddenly the wall next to him moved.

Then he remembered.

Silas glanced up to meet glowing red eyes. Even the robot, the De-cept-i-con, looked scuffed up. There were black scorch marks across scarred, silver plating and Silas even saw trails of its fuel source, _energon_ , leaking from compromised lines. Being the largest one in the room and the one closest to the explosion, the jet had taken the brunt of it. The robot just happened to be in the right spot to shield the unsuspecting humans from the worst of the eruption.

What do you know, the babbling fool was good for something.

However, the giant, winged Decepticon did not seem phased. As a metal being, the man doubted it could feel any pain. It even managed to rise to its full height, its sharpened fingers curled around something in its palm.

"And thus I prove my point," came its metallic drawl as it peered down at the MECH leader. "For such simple-minded cretins, you humans are _clever_." It flashed sharp teeth, almost like it was smiling. "But, not clever enough."

Starscream unfurled his fist, revealing his prize.

Jack Darby.

It seemed the teenager didn't think his genius plan all the way through, considering how close he was to the explosion when he fired the pistol. His shoes had been knocked from the force of the blast alone, and his jeans and shirt were burned and tattered. Crimson blood trailed down from his temple, and no doubt he was concussed. Supported by the fact he lay limb in the giant's hand. At first glance, he looked dead.

"Is he alive?" Silas demanded automatically, wanting to be sure.

"Oh, I assure you, I would never _touch_ one of your fleshy husks," the jet replied.

Despite his proclamation, Starscream carefully deposited his catch at the man's feet. Jack didn't even stir. Silas knelt beside him, a pair of fingers probing his neck, searching for a pulse. Weak, but steady. The boy would live.

Not how the MECH leader had planned things, but the brat was finally in his custody. And this time, there would be no Au-to-bots or NEST forces to interfere. Silas would finally have his answers. How the brat could utterly destroy his most skilled men. How the boy's eyes changed to a purple hue. How Jack was immune to energon.

Finally, they could move on with the next phase of Project Chimera. However, one major step forward came with a great step back. Frowning, Silas straightened and glanced at the smoldering shell. A few brave souls were already trying to battle the flames, but the project was long gone. Along with that T-cog contraption, already implanted in the new frame. Another wasted mission.

"What about my T-cog?" Silas demanded.

Starscream did not seem concerned as he glanced at the ruined robot, drawling lazily, "Oh, not a significant loss. Another Autobot, another T-cog. You'll get a replacement soon enough."

Silas bristled. It had taken them _weeks_ to plan that operation! And it was unlikely it would ever succeed again, now that they had lost the element of surprise. No doubt the Autobots would be more careful from now on.

"Not soon enough," the MECH leader growled, raising his hand in a gesture his men knew well. " _Now_."

Instantly the surviving soldiers around the warehouse turned, raising their weapons. Training them on the Decepticon. Starscream let out a small squawk and his wings raised like the tail of a startled cat. His crimson eyes scanned over the small army, noting the barrels pointing at the soft spots of his armor.

After a moment, he regained himself, squaring his shoulders and hissing, "Oh, most unwise, Silas. You think your army of insects can finish _me_? I am the Air Commander of Vos—"

His sentence was cut off as the robot's scream filled the air.

* * *

Megatron was triumphant.

Posted at the head of the bridge, he read over the reports with a widening grin. Breakdown and his patrol had found a fresh energon source, and were already beginning construction of a new mine. They only needed his permission for proper equipment to establish a base there. Then another report from Knock Out, telling how small group of Autobots and humans had tried to assault one of their energon deposits, but plucking off a few of the fleshlings had them running in retreat.

Leaving the Decepticons victorious.

Though Megatron was pleased, the reports only gave him more work to do. He would have to once again divide their resources to cover the new mine—perhaps even abandon one of their less successful ones. Then with the increase of income of energon, he would have to adjust the fuel consumption and rations. On Cybertron, the Decepticon leader had advisors to calculate such trivial things while he only approved. However, as his staff was so horribly thin, he opted to take the responsibility himself.

However, the management of his army and its little economy was much more dull than the thrill of battle on the frontlines. After increasing the rate of energon per troop (which no doubt even the drones would be thrilled about), Megatron moved on to the next report, this one from Soundwave. Laserbeak had found a suspected NEST base in the southern portion of the "United States." It could likely lead—

Purple optics flared.

Megatron snarled as a rush of foreign instincts rushed into his processor, scattering data so quickly and so violently it severed his thought in half. Emotions, he realized, coming from another.

 ** _Jack?_**

Then Megatron felt something. _Something_ cascaded across the blood-bond, filling his entire mind, his entire body. Raw heat scorched his entire neural net, so suddenly and so intense, he thought his processor would short-circuit.

 ** _What—_**

Then as soon as the attack began, the explosion of sensations vanished.

Still reeling from the onslaught, the Decepticon became faintly aware of his cooling fans kicking on, trying to repel the build-up of heat. The violet shades that had covered his vision returned to a crimson haze. It was almost a breem when rationale returned to Megaton's processor, trying to restore damaged files.

What had happened?

He knew it was Jack. It _had_ to be Jack. The warlord had yet to learn the full effects of the blood-bond. He still had to adjust to the brush of another's thoughts against his own. More than once, a pesky human emotion would slip through, and Megatron had to update his firewalls to keep from getting distracted. However, this time, the dictator carefully pried open the blood-bond, probing. Only to feel a solid wall.

Was he— No. Megatron pushed the stream of data away before it could even finish processing. He would _know_ if Jack was dead. His pet was very much alive. Yet the bond between them had been shut.

How? There had only been a handful of times Jack managed to close off his mind. Megatron quickly went through the possibilities of such a thing. The last he saw of or spoke to his pet, was after the Autobots claimed the spark extractor. No. When their scout was assaulted by humans. And he instructed Jack to find the perpetrators. Megatron snarled, trying hypothesize what could cause such an onslaught, only to be interrupted.

 _"_ _Lord Megatron?"_

The Decepticon leader did not jump, but his vents did hitch, too lost in his thoughts to notice the silent newcomer. By now his cooling fans had calmed to low whirr, blending into the natural hum of his systems. Peering over his pauldron, he was greeted with one of—no, _the_ smallest Decepticon on the ship. Pitch-black armor almost blended into the shadows of the _Nemesis_. It was only the twitch of extra appendages and brilliant violent, compound optics that distinguished the Insection.

 _"_ _You summoned me?"_ Airachnid greeted in Cybertronian, obediently sinking to a knee and placing her servo over her spark.

Megatron sorted the last compromised files away and sent a command for his cooling fans to stop. He did not bother with pleasantries.

 _"_ _I understand you allied with humans during your… time from our ranks?"_ he inquired, keeping his voice deceptively cool as he clasped his claws behind his back. Not turning to face his second-in-command.

There were was a quick flare in her EM field, but Airachnid suppressed it before she answered, _"Yes, my lord."_

 _"_ _Why?"_

This time the wires in her frame tightened slightly. As a Decepticon, even during her time of absence, she was well aware of her lord's rather intimate experience with the humans, and his resulting opinion. She especially knew of the incident with Breakdown. Megatron could practically see the gears turning in her head, as she thought of an excuse that explained her behavior and did not make her appear as a disgrace.

Airachnid decided there was no point lying to the Lord of the Decepticons, admitting, _"Because the opportunity presented itself, my lord. It seems the natives of this planet are more divided than even we are. I came across—rather, I was approached by—a group of humans that despised the Autobots as much as we do, and… sought my expertise."_

 _"_ _So you thought you could expect fleshlings to finish your battles for you?"_

Jack may have been resourceful, but the warlord would never have such a fragile creature fight for him. The human was to seek and fetch, like a good little pet. Megatron prodded at the bond again, reaching out to Jack. Still nothing.

 _"_ _Of course not, my lord,"_ Airachnid replied quickly. _"They merely made a good distraction, allowing me attack the Autobots."_

 _"_ _And how did that work out for you?"_

The Insecticon's vent hitched louder than Megatron's had and her EM field flared yet again. There was several long moments, as the femme refused to answer. Megatron was patient.

 _"_ _Arcee… managed to escape,"_ she forced out.

 _"_ _Hmm."_

Megatron glanced back at the report from Soundwave, taking his time to skim over it, well aware that Airachnid still lingered. He had not dismissed her, and not even she was willing to test the warlord. The Decepticon leader let the treacherous spider squirm.

After sending a reply to his surveillance chief, he moved on to the next inquiry, _"What can you tell me of these fleshlings?"_

" _They call themselves_ 'MECH,'" Airachnid answered. The English name sounded harsh and guttural. _"They consider themselves_ ' _freedom fighters_ ,' _as they desire to abolish their city-state's—er_ , country's— _caste system."_

Megatron did not correct her that Earth's caste system was nowhere near as strict and rigid as Cybertron's. On Cybertron, one was destined by their frame and birthplace. On Earth, was one destined by their wealth.

However, he knew even Airachnid struggled to describe human affairs in Cybertronian. As the advanced race had concepts that could not be fathomed by any human, the fleshlings had too many words their language did not have.

Megatron was still trying to understand the thoughts he had sensed from Jack. They were all to harsh and quick and _primal_. Humans emotions were so foreign and complicated, almost outside comprehension. The Decepticon pressed against the bond, but he was only greeted by silence. Why was Jack not answering? Where was he?!

The tyrant kept his voice levelled. _"Is it true they wish to use our technology to accomplish this?"_

For her credit, Airachnid wisely thought about her reply, and not risk Megatron's wrath. _"They wish to learn from us, Lord Megatron."_

The Decepticon warlord cocked an optic ridge. _"Oh? And what makes you think that insects are capable of learning our secrets?"_

 _"_ _They are clever. What they lack in size they make up for in ingenuity. More than we give them credit for."_ Then in an odd tone, Airachnid added, " _Surely you have seen this in your pet."_

Instead of agreeing, Megatron growled lowly, warning the Insecticon that she was crossing into dangerous territory. She got the hint and retreated to another argument.

 _"_ _Just look at their technology. They build things to make idle tasks more convenient or find more efficient ways to kill each other."_

Megatron was growing bored, reminded of a speech Starscream had once given him. _"Your point?"_

 _"_ _Why waste the little forces we have,"_ Airachnid lectured, gesturing around the bridge, _"when we can let the humans destroy themselves?"_ It was then a cruel smile spread across her lips, sharp fangs glinting. _"Perhaps, they may even terminate the Autobots for us?"_

Finally, Megatron caught on to what his second-in-command was insinuating. Finally, he realized Jack could not hear him. The Decepticon whirled around, snarling. Automatically Airachnid flinched back, but paused when she realized her leader was not attacking her.

Instead she stood frozen, as Megatron said slowly, dangerously, _"You_ dare _speak of sharing our weapons with insects, when they have_ stolen from us. _They have insulted our kind again and again and again. The Prime may forgive them, but_ I will not. _When their precious guardians fall, when they realize they cannot resist, the humans will have a choice: serve us, or perish."_

And Jack would choose. Megatron would _make_ him choose.

Airachnid had cowered at the rant, unknowing slipping in an Insecticon's submissive pose. Her appendages shrunk against her back and she lowered close to the ground, talons curled near her spark.

 _"_ _Forgive me, my lord, I meant no disrespect,"_ she hastily apologized, just barely managing to keep her voice even.

Airachnid was hardly a coward, but Megatron was well aware she valued her own function more than anything else. And without the shadows to hide in, she reverted to her base programming. The Decepticon leader snorted in contempt and turned his back to the spider.

 _"_ _You are dismissed_ ," he huffed.

Airachnid did not need to be told twice. She slipped away on hurried, quiet pedes, leaving Megatron alone. The tyrant had his fangs bared, still processing their conversation.

No, he would not allow insects take what was his. They would not take his weapons. They would not take his pet.

There was a reason Jack was sealed from him.

Megatron would find out.

With that, the Decepticon lord left the bridge. It was time to pay the communications center a visit.

* * *

Jack first felt pain. It pulsed from behind his eyes, reverberating through his skull and coursing through his entire body. A persistent ache gripped his muscles. His shoulders were burning. He shifted, trying to alleviate the soreness, but his limbs hardly moved. It was then Jack was aware of cold, biting against his skin and tingling against his spine.

...What?

It was then he heard a noise. It was horribly distorted, sounding distant and muffled against his ringing ears. The boy tried to force his eyes open. Only to be greeted by harsh, assaulting light. He hissed and squeezed his eyes shut.

More sound. With a quiet moan, Jack slowly blinked his eyes again. The light was still there, still blinding, but he forced himself to look up. The throb behind his eyes turned into a vicious pounding. The teen could only make out shapes. A tall, dark one, moving in front of him.

Megatron? No, it couldn't be.

His blurry, doubled vision focused, just to make out a familiar, scarred face.

"Silas," Jack growled, only to hear his voice was low and hoarse.

"About time you came around," Silas replied in his own growl as he settled in front of the boy, crossing his arms behind his back. "We tried to wake you up before, but you wouldn't respond. We were getting worried."

What? Jack opened his mouth to demand what he was talking about, then memories washed over him like a tidal wave. He was in Paris, with Miko and Raf. They got captured by MECH. He… he told them to run away while…

The image of the lifeless Transformer flashed across his eyes. Then flames.

Jack shut his eyes tight from his migraine. Did… did he do that? Did he really destroy the Transformer? Then… how was he still alive? He had to be caught in the blast range.

It was then the army brat realized something was wrong. Instead of a hospital bed or a cot he woke up in before, Silas was _standing_ in front of him. Jack became aware of the ache in his limbs, the cold, and a distinct rattling sound above him.

He jerked, but the chains held fast around his wrists. They pinned his arms above his head, secured to a metal pole behind him. The soles of his bare feet barely touched the cold concrete. Glancing down confirmed his chest was bare as well, only leaving him in his jeans.

"What the frag?" Jack exclaimed, jerking again, only for his metal binds to dig into his skin.

Silas quirked his lips in a ghost of a sadistic smile.

"I apologize we could not give you more comfortable accommodations," the MECH leader apologized, but his tone was not sincere, "but this is all we had under such short notice."

Jack highly suspected that was a lie. Instantly his mind started reeling, his senses slowly clearing, too slowly. He could only make out shadows of a dull room around him, a single, glaring light illuminating the floor. He glimpsed a table behind Silas, but the man filled his view, preventing him from seeing its contents.

The army brat didn't understand. Surely MECH wanted him dead. Silas had even said so himself. Then why was he here? Where was—

Jack's blood went frigid as he remembered. Miko, hotheaded girl that she was, screaming for attention, before scampering away. A pack of soldiers on her heels.

"Miko!" he gasped. "Raf! Where are they?" When Silas just stared, he repeated, "My friends! Where are my friends?"

"Alive," Silas assured. "Unharmed. Behave, and they'll stay that way."

Jack shivered at the not-so-veiled threat, but he glared bravely at his captor. "You didn't answer me. Where did you take my friends?"

"Somewhere safe," the man stuck to his vague answers. "A bit shaken up, but they're fine."

Jack was relieved and horrified at the same time. Miko and Raf weren't harmed, but they were far from okay. MECH had them locked up somewhere. They were alone and confused and scared—

Then Jack realized.

"You're lying," he accused, grateful some strength was finally returning to his voice.

Silas cocked an eyebrow. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Because I know Miko." When the extremist just narrowed his eyes at him, the boy went on, "She's not scared of anything."

Miko ran into the face of danger, not away from it. Jack had lost count how many times she ran into an open groundbridge, and tried to inch towards the center of a robot battle royale. Usually almost having the army brat killed during the fiasco. For a long moment, Silas just stared, then he curled his lips in amusement.

"You _are_ smart," the man muttered, but it hardly sounded like a compliment. "Too much for your own good, brat."

"I found your secret base, didn't I?" Jack taunted.

"It doesn't count if we _took_ you."

The boy narrowed his eyes and tried to read his surroundings again. There were no windows, so it was impossible to tell where he was. Were they in the same base, or somewhere else? He turned over the night's events, trying to remember every single detail with a migraine.

"You left a trail on purpose," accused Jack.

"More or less," Silas shrugged. He turned, pacing back and forth. "I learned quite a few things from our last encounter. For one, that NEST highly values their assets, which is to be expected. I knew if I took out one of the robots, they would send a strike team after me. That warehouse you walked in to? That was where my men were supposed to neutralize any tails."

The man glared at his prisoner. "So imagine their surprise when three dumb kids walked in." A shrug. "But I got what I needed, so I can't complain."

"So _all_ of the that, was just to get a T-cog?"

"For the most part." When Jack just glared in confusion, Silas went on, "Why do we think we chose Paris? Dense, well-populated. If the Autobots came, they would have to keep a low profile. And possibly, require the assistance of their human allies."

The MECH leader looked pointedly at the boy. Jack's stomach knotted as a paranoid suspicion resurfaced in his mind.

"So then that trap was for me?" he hypothesized.

"Our original plan was to fetch you in the catacombs," Silas admitted, and a chill crawled down the boy's spine. "We were prepared to take that bike, too, but then… there was an unexpected variable."

Jack realized. "Ravage."

The Decepticon had been lured by the frequency just like he had been. It was likely the deadly beast startled MECH, who wasn't expecting the uninvited guest. However, it made Jack's skin crawl, knowing MECH was _watching_.

Noticing the man's irritated look, he grinned and jeered, "What? Didn't know Decepticons come in 'small size,' too?"

"Well, now we do." The extremist paused his pacing and turned to face his captive. "And now we have you."

The army brat's chest tightened at the odd tone, and he narrowed his eyes to a glare. "What do you want from me?"

"You destroyed Project Chimera. I think its only fair that you compensate for it." A sadistic glint appeared in Silas's eye. "But helping us start anew."

Jack didn't like the sound of that. Unable to process the man's meaning, he latched onto a single word. "Ch-Chimera?"

"A monster of Greek mythology, with the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a serpent. According to legend, it was an omen of disaster, ravaging the countryside of Lycia with its fire. That was until it was slain by the hero Bellerophon."

"So does the story have a point other than that you're a nerd?"

Silas gave a huff that may have been a laugh, but the boy wasn't sure. "A story became an inspiration for future scientists. The Greeks loved take harmless animals, and twist them to create ferocious monsters. So, mankind began to wonder, was it possible to combine the genetics of more than one animal to create a new species?"

"Are you going to throw a human in there?" Jack interrupted sarcastically. He didn't expect Silas to take him seriously.

"Oh, they tried. All of them failed."

"As much as I love the history lesson of the insane, you didn't answer my question."

" _Listen,_ and I may tell you," Silas retorted, and Jack snapped his jaw shut. However, he had to struggle listen as the man continued to lecture, "MECH has conducted research and found that other scientists were taking the wrong approach. They were trying to open the lock without the key. MECH, has found that key."

The prisoner was getting bored, tired of the fact that Silas was talking in circles. How did _any_ of this have to do with that fact the boy was chained to a pole in a basement? MECH had kidnapped him, to what, lecture him to death? In revenge of the loss of their demented Transformer, that had something to do with a chimera?

Then Jack flinched. But Silas explained they wanted him _before_ he destroyed the robot. Then… what did he have to do Project Chimera?

For the first time since his captor started with his ludicrous speech, Jack humored him. "And what might that be?"

The MECH leader looked almost satisfied that he finally got his captive's attention, turning around to walk towards the table. It was covered in vague tools, but Silas instead picked up a tablet.

He fiddled with it as he neared Jack, saying, "Last time you were in our custody, we discovered in anomaly in your systems."

The boy flinched. He remembered. Desperate to escape, he had given into Megatron's will. Overwhelmed by the warlord's bloodlust, he fought Silas, almost killed him, until he managed to regain his humanity. It came with a cost. The MECH leader could not ignore Jack's deadly alter-ego, and instead of killing him, he dragged him to the laboratory. They had run test after test on him, until NEST forces finally arrived.

Jack hadn't given any thought since then. He had hoped that whatever MECH had collected from him, it was destroyed during the battle. His hopes were dashed, when Silas turned the tablet in his hand so the boy could see the screen.

It was only thanks to his biology class that the teenager immediately recognized a microscopic picture of red blood cells, but something was wrong. Dark, ugly shapes protruded from the cells, looking like crystals. Jack knew instantly what it was.

Dark energon.

 _"_ _It's a part of you, now. Not just in blood or in your heart, but the darkness of your soul. It cannot to removed."_

Silas watched him, waiting for a reaction. The army brat didn't know how to respond. MECH _knew_. They knew about the dark energon. Just because of a blood test, they had revealed his secret. He didn't want to confirm anything for his captor, but Jack could not hide his horror.

"As I thought," Silas murmured. "You _do_ know." He lowered the tablet, and a wicked sneer widened. "So you know what it is, don't you?" Jack looked away, but his captor did not let him have that luxury. Suddenly an iron grip took his chin, forcing him to look back at deadly eyes. "Energon."

"Congratulations," Jack spat, "you diagnosed me with energon poisoning. The docs say I have two months left to live."

Silas scoffed at the statement. "We already have the results from the rest of the tests. There are no effects from the energon on you." Jack swallowed and tried to jerk his head free, but the MECH leader did not relent. Instead, his tone turned accusing and fascinated at the same time. "You're _immune_ , aren't you?"

Jack shivered, and that was all Silas needed as an answer. He released his prisoner, and went on in that odd tone, "Fascinating. A human immune to inorganic material. A material, that powers _machines_."

Jack's first instinct was to correct him, that Cybertronians were anything but. However, it did not make his condition any less impossible. It took several moments of his mind reeling, his sanity trying to accept this absurd situation was really happening. Then the boy replied with his own argument, as weak as it was.

"And so what if I am? What does it matter to you?" Jack demanded. "Energon just destroys everyone else. You're not even sure if its just killing me slowly."

"Perhaps," Silas humored him, "but it hasn't killed you yet. I want to know how."

Before the army could continue the argument, Jack started when a door swung open.

Another MECH soldier, dressed in the same Kevlar armor, but he wore no mask, allowing the teenager to see his face. The man had silver hair, cut short to his scalp like Silas's. Crow's feet branched from his ice-blue eyes. His face looked like it was made of stone, stern and unmoving, lips pulled in a frown.

Jack eyed the newcomer, except the agent completely ignored him, and even Silas. He went straight to the table, messing with its contents. The MECH leader didn't acknowledge him, either, arms still behind his back and cold gaze still on his prisoner. Jack found his skin crawling without his permission. He pulled at the chains again, but to no avail.

"Now, it's obvious enough the energon has some kind of enhancing effect on you," Silas mused, gaze looking almost thoughtful. "However, the effect requires a trigger. And since you were so kind to demonstrate for us, my team of scientist have devised a theory."

Demonstrate? When? Jack had fought Silas _months_ ago and the man had been the only one to see his dark state. He didn't— Then Jack remembered with a start. The hangar, when he approached the robot. Starscream had pinned him… and he remembered… getting so _angry_.

Ignoring the boy's look of horror, the MECH leader went on, "It appears the energon is… 'activated' when you are subjected to high levels of stress."

"So?"

" _So,_ if we figure out what activates it, we can use it."

For a long moment, Jack did not hear what Silas said. Only when he did, it took several long seconds to even translate the words. Even when he did, he still did not believe it.

" _Use_ dark energon?! Are you insane?" he shrieked. "How can you even do that when all it's going to do is _kill_ you? Why do you need _me_ to figure that out?!"

Silas struck out. In a blink of an eye, the man pounced and Jack wheezed as a solid weight pressed against his chest. He instinctively raised his knee to strike at his assaulter, but muscular legs pinned his lean ones. This time Silas didn't have to seize Jack's face, their noses less than an inch apart, so close that the only place to look was at the large man's eyes.

"Because you are a _chimera_ ," Silas hissed, low and dangerous like a snake. "The product of two organisms, the perfect meld of man and machine."

"Do I look like some 'techno-organic' to you?! Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I can't shoot lasers out of my eyes or spout wings!"

"Maybe not. But perhaps this 'dark energon' can be useful in different ways. Once MECH unlocks its secrets, we will evolve mankind into a new race. One that even _they_ will fear."

Jack felt a block of ice formed in his heart, as he finally understood Silas's words. But his logic still argued, still resisted. MECH's plan was so impossible, so _insane…_ And they were going to use _him_ to somehow accomplish it.

"You're… a monster," Jack hissed.

Silas's wide, satisfied, evil smile looked too much like a demon's. "Oh, Jack, we are _all_ monsters here."

With that, the man pushed off of his prisoner, allowing the boy to breathe again. Panting, he glared defiantly at Silas, not daring to show fear to this madman. The leader just stared at him a moment more, with a gaze Jack had never seen before. Like the teen was a priceless treasure just dug up from the earth.

"He's all yours, Marcus," Silas said as he moved away, gesturing to his subordinate. "Remember, I want him in one piece."

Before Jack had a chance to ask what was going on, the MECH leader slammed the door shut behind him. The stranger instantly took his leader's place, a strange object in his hands. Before Jack could react, he pressed the barrel against his arm and he yelled at the stab of pain.

"Sorry about that, just following orders," the man, Marcus, apologized, but it did not sound sincere at all. His was deep and cold, with a hint of an accent Jack didn't recognize.

The teenager panted, eying the odd device in his hand. What… what had the man injected him with? A drug? A sedative, a stimulant?

"What was that?" he demanded to know.

"Since we can't exactly strap a bunch of monitors to you, the eggheads cooked up in the laboratory," Marcus explained in an unconcerned drawl. He crossed over to the room over to the table of tools. "It's a monitor that goes through the bloodstream, reading your blood count levels, your blood pressure, even your heart rate." The MECH agent turned and smiled at him, like they were actually friends. "It's a shame, we don't have something this fancy at a real hospital."

Jack said no reply, just glaring back at his captor, wrists pulling at his restraints. The man only shrugged and turned back to his desk.

"Now, its completely up to you, but—"

Suddenly Marcus raised a tool, and Jack's blood froze. Silver steel glinted in the fluorescent light. Thin, sharp, deadly. The teenager's heart raced in fearful anticipation at the sight of the knife.

"The more you squirm, the more it hurts."

* * *

 **I am a horrible person.**

 **And to make things clear, despite my other stories, I do not plan to take the human-turned-bot in this story. For the purpose of the fanfiction, "techno-organic" refers to a human with traits of a Cybertronian, such as increased and immunity to energon, such as Jack's case. However, MECH labels him a "chimera."**

 **chi·me·ra**

 ** _noun_**

 **noun: chimera; plural noun: chimeras; noun: chimaera; plural noun: chimaeras; noun: Chimera**

 **1.** **(in Greek mythology) a fire-breathing female monster with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail.**

 **2.** **an organism containing a mixture of genetically different tissues, formed by processes such as fusion of early embryos, grafting, or mutation.**

 **3.** **a DNA molecule with sequences derived from two or more different organisms, formed by laboratory manipulation.**

 **After some brief research, as I've yet to take Genetics, to my understanding there is two different ways to produce a real-life chimera. Most occur in nature, usually in which an embryo absorbs its twin, and takes on the DNA of both. Usually this results in different eye color, different pigments of fur/skin, and two different blood types. There are both animal and human examples of this. However, there are chimeras that possess the DNA of two different species, due to lab manipulation. In my story, "chimera" will refer to the latter definition.**


	12. Pain and Suffering

**WARNING: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of torture and aftermath of torture. If it bothers you, please skip. Why am I so mean to Jack…**

* * *

Soundwave was nothing but resourceful. The humans' communication system was so primitive it didn't even have a means of defense, allowing the surveillance chief to easily hack into the right frequency. Even if it was an Autobot's.

 _/"Miko…"/_ Megatron recognized that voice. The heavy-frame green Wrecker, Bulkhead. He recognized the name, too. _/"You know I can't—"/_

The organic femme didn't even allow him to finish. / _"Jack's in trouble!"/_

 _/"What? What do you mean?"/_

The channel was filled high-pitched, wets sounds as the girl, Miko, practically sobbed. Megatron could hardly make out the pathetic whines as the human told the story, how Jack had gotten the other two pets involved, and managed to get themselves captured. The Decepticon bristled. Then she explained how she and the runt managed to escape in the chaos.

 _/"You WHAT?"/_ Bulkhead roared furiously. / _"Miko, I_ told _you— Wait a second. Where is Jack?"/_

 _/"I-I don't know! M-MECH took him!"/_ Another deafening wail. / _"They took him! It's all my fault!"/_

Megatron ignored the Autobot's frantic assurances in response, instead whirling around with a violent snarl. Realizing his lord had lost interest, Soundwave promptly shut off the transmission, just as Bulkhead barked something about retrieving his lost pet.

Meanwhile the Decepticon leader was furious with his own. He _told_ Jack to be more careful. The fleshling could not even follow simple instructions! He had hoped Jack would know enough to be _discreet_ , as he had no problem doing before. Instead, he likely revealed himself, and now he was—

The thought was interrupted by the lord's yowl of pain. The Decepticons posted in the communications center flinched. Megatron doubled over, gripping his abdomen and baring his fangs. The dictator growled as white-hot _agony_ coursed through his neural net. It was sharp, harsh, _deep_.

Soundwave was by his side in an instant, a thin servo on his broad shoulder. He used what little of his frame to hide his master's distress, but kept an arm's reach away, careful to not invade the Decepticon's EM field.

The third-in-command had a right to be concerned, Megatron supposed. They had both fought in the Pits—they had even traded blows on more than one occasion. Soundwave was well-aware that one did not become the Champion of Kaon by crippling because of a mesh wound.

But there was no wound there. Instead it was caused by something else. Caused by the pain of another. Caused by Jack.

But that still did not explain what was happening. The human's discomfort was usually insignificant—the worst attacks would trigger a mere flinch. This was not the case. This was far from the shallow flashes of pain he would feel. It was almost like the assault he sensed earlier.

Megatron pressed against the bond of darkness in the back of his mind, prodding. Only for his processor to be assaulted by a whirlwind of emotions. Fury, sorrow, shame, fear, and many, _many_ more. He promptly closed off the bond with firewalls and useless data, muffling the onslaught.

With a strained grunt, he straightened. Soundwave continued to hover on the edge of his EM field and he heard the shifting of baffled drones, but the tyrant paid it no mind. Instead, he processed what he had just experienced.

Agony.

Jack's agony.

His charge was in agony.

How? Were those _pests_ involved? If the human had gotten himself captured, it was the only logical assumption. Then that meant…

 _Humans_ were hurting Jack.

Megatron let out a dangerous growl, and Soundwave wisely stepped back. Jack thought he could chastise the Decepticon leader about the Cybertronian's mortality, when he forgot his own race's fragility. Humans, they were so easily damaged and killed, and yet they still turned on each other. All so they could take what was not theirs.

Jack did not belong to MECH.

He belonged to _Megatron_.

He carried the memories of the warlord, he carried the blood of Unicron, he carried the corrupted heart of a Decepticon. Even the Prime realized that, leaving Jack to Megatron's mercy. Oh, and how quickly the human clung to him, once he realized the Autobots had abandoned him. It was only a matter of time now.

This 'MECH' would not interfere. They would not damage his property. They would not _take_ his pet.

Jack was _his_.

Megatron turned to his surveillance chief.

"My pet has been stolen from me," the lord hissed. "Find him, Soundwave."

The forever loyal third-in-command never had to be told twice. With a single nod, the communications turned to complete his task.

* * *

Jack wailed as the two guards holding him up unceremoniously dropped him on the cold ground. Sending jolts of white-hot pain from his still-bleeding wounds.

The army brat had tried to resist when the stranger, the _torturer_ , Marcus, had neared him with that wicked blade. He went as far as sending feeble kicks at his assaulter. It rewarded him with his legs being tied down. Jack still squirmed, still pulled, still taunted and cursed out Marcus when he noticed the sadistic glee in the man's eyes. However, it was useless.

With the precision of a surgeon, the torturer sliced the sharp edge of the butcher's knife across the fragile skin of his torso. Jack had gritted his teeth at the first few strokes, swallowing the sounds of pain, not wanting to give his tormenter any satisfaction. Then hisses escaped. Then whimpers, then wails. Finally screams when the agony became too much to bear.

He must have passed out at some point. He awoke to soldiers half-carrying, half-dragging him through dimly lit hallways. And dumping him here, slamming and locking the door behind him. Jack's chest was pressed against the frigid floor, and he couldn't find the energy to raise his head. The pain radiated from the deep gashes, having his entire body ache. His head hurt.

It took time for the fog that had covered his mind to dissipate and rational thought to return. He tried to make sense of this absurd situation. But he couldn't. Jack could only come to one conclusion: MECH wanted _him_. They had been after him the entire time, and for what? To study dark energon?

Jack wished he could save them time, and himself, by showing them the burnt body of Torres. Energon and humans were incompatible. Even if he was an exception, it meant nothing for everyone else. Even as those thoughts drifted through his head, the teen knew his argument would not stop Marcus from coming for him again.

He had not broken. Or, whatever "broken" meant, at this point. Jack had bore through the pain, and the torturer did not hide his disappointment at the overall lack of reaction. It was only because the boy's skin turned pale and his eyes glazed over was when he finally stopped. The boy sucked in air through his teeth, his abused chest quivering in a shaky breath.

At least Miko and Raf were okay. He could only hope. But MECH did not have them, which meant they escaped. His plan worked, even if it worked _too_ well. Maybe the two could find their way home, find help.

 _"_ _So disappointing when the ones we trust betray us."_

"Shut up," Jack replied in a hoarse whisper.

He had forgiven his friends. They loved him and they stayed together, that was the only thing that mattered. They would come back.

Jack laid on the floor for a few more minutes. It wasn't until he felt the strain in his neck from the awkward position did he finally stir. The army brat moaned as he propped himself on his elbows, pulling at his wounds. He tried to raised himself up, but only when he did, stabs of pain struck at his body. He hissed, and slowly, carefully, rolled himself over onto his back. Marcus had not given as much attention there.

However, the simple movement was exhausting, having Jack's pants fill the void of silence. He stared up at the black ceiling far above him. There was no light this time. As far as he could tell, he was in a room, similar to the one they locked him and his friends earlier… that night? How much time had passed? Hours? Days? It was impossible to know.

Jack didn't know how long he stayed on his pitiful position on the floor. He slipped in and out of unconsciousness, the darkness embracing him like an old friend before letting go and slipping away. The pain continued to roll across his body in waves, sometimes a violent spasm ripping him from his restless slumber. At one point, Jack thought he felt wet stickiness from underneath him.

He didn't how much time had past, when his black world was replaced by harsh light. He had been floating between sleeping and being awake, and the intrusion dragged him into awareness. Footsteps of polished shoes, then a frantic gasp and a quiet curse. Not Silas. Not his torturer, either.

"Dear God," a voice exclaimed. "Jack!"

Jack stiffened. He _knew_ that voice. A voice that came from the earliest memories of his childhood, and he had heard almost every day for two years. Now, he wished he never had to hear it again.

"Mmichel?" Jack slurred, trying to get his vision to focus.

He was greeted with a stern face, with silver hair and analytical brown eyes. Michael DiBiase. His family's physician. His physician. His guardian. And now he worked with Jack's captors.

A second light joined the first—a flashlight. Jack only squinted his eyes at the attempted examination, because of the pain it caused and in defiance.

"G'way," he muttered.

"It's okay, son," DiBiase replied, fingers gingerly pressing the skin around his cuts.

Instantly Jack snarled and snapped his eyes open. Fresh energy coursed through his limbs, allowing him to send a savage blow into the doctor's temple. The man fell over, not expecting the blow or the force behind it. The teenager tried to take advantage to jump to his feet, only when he moved into a sitting position, he let out a ragged scream. In the corner of his eye, he saw DiBiase move towards him, but he paused when Jack growled again.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled. "You're _not_ my father!"

"I just want to help you," DiBiase replied, eyes widening at the violent outburst.

" _Help_ me? You're with _them_!"

"I'm sorry for what Marcus did. He has no medical expertise. He shouldn't have—"

"He _tortured_ me!"

Jack's arms instinctively curled around his abdomen, trying to cover the worst of the gashes. By now the blood had tried to a dark red crust, sticking to his skin. DiBiase frowned at the display.

"I hate you have to get hurt, but understand this is only way to get results," the man said softly, as if his statement wasn't ludicrous. "Sometimes science isn't—"

"So I'm only a science experiment?" Jack cut off venomously. "What about your promise to Mom? I'm your fragging _godson_!"

Suddenly DiBiase's expression hardened at the mention of the woman. "I know. And that's why I'm here. I managed to convince Silas to let me treat you."

"That's doesn't make it better. You really think I'm just going to forgive you because of _that_? You can stitch me up all you want, but MECH is just going to cut me up again until I go Super Saiyan."

"We just want to understand the effects of the energon—"

"And then what, 'you'll let me go'?" Jack spat. "They'll kill me once they get what they want."

DiBiase's eyes narrowed. "No, you don't know that." The teenager only let out a scoff of disbelief. The man dared to near again. "Jack, just let me tend to those cuts. They'll get infected if I don't—"

The army brat muttered, "I'll be fine."

" _Jackson_."

The teen could count the number of times DiBiase called him by his full name with only a single hand. He _hated_ being called that. It made him sound like an old man. The people in his life quickly learned that, and quickly learned using the name was the best way to gain his attention—and his discipline.

For a long moment, the pair just glared at each other. Whatever love and trust Jack had a matter of months ago was _gone_. He hated MECH for their crimes. And the fact someone in his life agreed with them was a betrayal he could not forgive. Obviously DiBiase was still under delusion there some of bond between them, even as the teen's blood stained the floor beneath him. Finally, logic poked at Jack's mind. The sooner the doctor got what he wanted, the sooner he would leave.

" _Fine_ ," the army brat relented. "Just get it over with."

At the invitation, DiBiase cautiously, slowly, approached Jack like he was a cornered animal. Just as carefully, the doctor took a hold of the boy's arm and wrapped a hand around his shoulder. Jack groaned as he was hoisted to his feet. He unconsciously leaned against the man for support as DiBiase guided him to a cot he had failed to notice in the darkness.

Jack hissed as he laid on his back across it, but did not resist. His glare never left DiBiase's as the doctor pulled out his tools. The man told him only a few of the cuts needed stitches, but the boy hardly found that assuring. His gritted his teeth as the needle drove in and out of his flesh, with surgical design. DiBiase had withdrawn into that disconnected persona, each movement critical and precise. Jack found he was calmer when he was working, and more inclined to answer the teen's questions.

"So explain one thing to me, doc," Jack filled the silence after a couple of gashes had been sealed. "How is making diabolical robots and kidnapping poor little boys fulfill your vendetta against the government?"

"We want to find the advancement in technology and medicine," DiBiase argued, eyes never straying from his work.

"To murder more innocent people?"

"To show the world what mankind can achieve without those in power forcing us down. The government has made too many mistakes, and the people have to see that."

"The government's mistakes? Or my parents'?"

Jack got a reaction to that. DiBiase's brow twitched, but his hands kept working. However, he answered through gritted teeth, " _John's_ mistake."

"What was that? Having honor? Serving his country? Protecting his family?"

This time the doctor could not keep the venom from his voice, "If he truly wanted to protect his family, he would have stayed home."

"Or was it Mom's mistake? That's what's really bothering you, isn't it? That Mom chose him over _you_."

Suddenly DiBiase flinched, and Jack yipped as the needle curved into his skin, deep. The teen quickly recovered. After what he had just endured, the discomfort was insignificant.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack quipped through a cringe.

The doctor didn't humor him with a reply, but his lips were pulled in a deep frown and his eyebrows were furrowed. He was working quicker than before, hastily tying the suture closed. The boy was glad to see DiBiase was clearly annoyed, only a fraction of retribution against his captors.

Jack went on, "Why doesn't it bother you are hurting _her_ son? If you really care about Mom, you would let me go." When DiBiase said nothing, pressing his lips together, the teen went on, "Or was it all a lie? That you just used her to get close to Dad, so you could go slinking back to MECH—"

Finally DiBiase snapped. He sprung up from leaning over Jack, towering over the injured teenager with a fury in his eyes.

"Everything I did, was for _her_!" he shouted, violently. "I gave her a job, a life! What did John do? I told her not to go. That everything she needed was in Jasper. Instead she went to Georgia, with that _jarhead_ —"

Jack rose his voice to an angry yell as well. "That jarhead was my father!"

"I knew he couldn't provide for her. That a life in the army was too disruptive for a doctor. Sure enough, June had to become a nurse, when she deserves so much more—"

" _Shut up!_ "

Jack slapped away the hands and tried to sit up, only for the pain to flare. With a strangle cry, he fell back down. DiBiase moved, either to stop him or pin him down or both, but the boy couldn't tell. Instead, he glared up at the man.

"Do you know _why_ Mom fell in love with Dad?" DiBiase glared down at him, as if challenging him, and the boy explained, "She _told_ me. She loved him because he was brave and fought for others. That's what they tried so hard to teach me. To help people who couldn't help themselves. That's why she would never love someone like you. You're just a cowardly and selfish man."

The doctor's gaze hardened at that, and finally that stony expression broke into a scowl.

"You're traumatized," the physician stated, as if it explained everything. "You're looking for blame so you're painting me as the monster. I'm still the same man."

"Yes, you are," Jack agreed. "It's just taken me this long to see who you really are."

DiBiase flinched, like the teenager had slapped him in the face. Then that snarl returned. "I'm finished here. I'll be back in a day to see how they are holding up."

"Don't rush on my account."

The doctor collected his tools quickly and roughly, and stormed towards the door. It slammed behind the man, and cloaking Jack in darkness.

* * *

It wasn't long until the prisoner felt his veins heating. Marcus had been so busy watching his eyes, he didn't know he merely had to leave Jack alone. The human felt the dark energon coursing through his body. His wounds began a subtle tingling, as the blood of the Unicron attempted to heal its host.

Jack knew it would still take time for the cuts to mend, and they would likely leave behind nasty scars. The dark energon may have accelerated his regeneration, but it could only do so much. It would still take several days for the deep gashes to heal, and the teenager was not given that much time.

The torturer entered, that sadistic glee in his eye, and he was not alone. They beat him. Jack could only curl into a feeble ball as boots and fists of the MECH soldiers assaulted him. They targeted his bandaged torso, tearing apart the stitches and sending stabs of agony so violent that he cried out. Marcus ensured they were thorough, not leaving a single inch untouched. By the time they left, Jack couldn't see out of his right eye and his chest was wet again.

It wasn't long later, when DiBiase returned, true to his word. He placed the boy back on the cot, re-sutured the cuts, applied ointment, and left. Jack's jaw hurt too much to start another argument.

It fell into a sick, twisted routine after that, the torturer and the doctor taking turns visiting him. Marcus would either pin Jack to his spot or drag him to another room, a different torture each time. Cutting or beating, whatever mood he was in.

The torturer's knife traveled, finding fresh spots of his skin. Sometimes he would revisit old wounds, reopening healing scars and ruining DiBiase's hard work. Soon his tormenter got bored with a simple blade, and started playing with different tools. Each one made Jack scream.

When Marcus did not want to handle the teenager himself, he gave him to the guards. The onslaughts were as violent as the first and even more painful. But the torturer deemed that became too dull as well. They began targeting certain parts of his body, hitting him in the same spot over and over until Jack was convinced the bone would break. However, they were careful, and went to the next best thing. The army brat could not stop his ear-splitting screeches as they dislocated joints, and popped them back in just as quickly. More than once DiBiase complained they didn't set it correctly.

Jack fought every second of the way. He pushed against his captors, usually being rewarded with additional blow, but he would not bend to their commands. He insulted and joked whenever he could, feigning nonchalance. The teen tried to muffle his cries of pain, gritting so hard his teeth cracked and more than once he bit his tongue so hard it bled.

Marcus merely saw it as a challenge. He wouldn't end a session until he elected a shout of agony from his victim. If Jack happened to fall unconscious, the torturer would wake him up and start all over again. The teen hated he broke each time, no matter how hard he tried. He felt pathetic when a pitiful whimpers escaped his lips or when he was so desperate for the agony to stop, he _begged._ Of course, his tormentor never listened. In fact, his pleas only seemed to urge the sadist on.

Jack didn't know how to make the cycle stop. It was like they were torturing him for information. Oh, he wanted to give it up, tell them everything, but he didn't what they _wanted_. It was not long when the teenager found out, when he felt a familiar rush as a MECH agent pinned him to the wall. His opponent sent hit after hit after hit into the wound on his side, making him cry out, filling him with wrath. If only this insect knew how easily a Champion—

Jack shoved down the intrusive thoughts. Through the haze of blood and sweat and pain, he remembered what Silas said. Dark energon. They wanted the dark energon. He couldn't give in to the bloodthirsty desires. He would just be giving MECH what they wanted.

Oh, it was hard. Every punch, every kick, every slice, the darkness in Jack's heart flared and he wanted to turn around and rip the assaulter apart. At least then it would _stop_ , and he would have a _chance._ But he fought to keep his hold on logic. Even if he gave in to Megatron's will, what would he do? He could overpower the first few guards, sure. Perhaps even make it to the exit. But it would only take a lucky blow or a bullet to end his rampage, and likely his life.

Despite he was aware of MECH's intentions, the organization did their best to keep their abused prisoner alive. DiBiase visited like clockwork, and not daring to leave once every bruise, cut, and wound was fixed. A couple times, he had managed to convince Jack's torturer to allow him to recover for a day.

They brought him food, too, even as the army brat didn't eat it. The first couple times, he merely glanced at the unappetizing meal and felt bile rise to his throat. The agent responsible for his nutrition didn't care at first, until Jack continued to refuse. Then the man got angry, and Jack was pressed to eat, but he could only manage a few bites at most. When it made his feeder furious, he came up with a half-baked lie he was on a sensitive diet and certain foods made him sick. It still didn't save him from a beating.

Jack had managed to crawl to his little cot. He curled into a little ball, shivering, and he wrapped himself in a rough, flimsy blanket. It was so absurd, the people so determined to make him miserable were also so determined to fuss about his health. DiBiase had already taken several samples.

The army brat tried to sleep, to escape, but his insomnia had hardly lessened, make him twice as exhausted. He was ripped from his fitful rest when the door squealed as it was swung open and the glaring light of his cell turned on. Jack immediately tensed and let out a quiet whine, squeezing his eyes shut. It was too early for DiBiase's examination, meaning it was Marcus, coming for another session. And he wasn't alone this time, as the boy made out two sets of footsteps. However, instead of his torturer's sneer, another familiar voice greeted him.

"Wake up, brat," Silas barked, like it was an order.

Jack knew it was fruitless to refuse. He blinked his eyes open, squinting as he tried to adjust to the harsh light. Sure enough, he made out the MECH leader's broad form, but he blinked in surprise to see DiBiase in the man's shadow. Still tense and his body aching from head to toe, the boy sluggishly rose into a sitting position. Suspicious, he met Silas's glare with his own.

"I am told you're not eating," the terrorist growled lowly, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I'm on a diet," Jack quipped with a shrug, only for his voice to sound terribly hoarse and he winced from the soreness of his shoulders.

"You said you get sick." Now Silas looked suspicious and he glanced at DiBiase. "Yet I am assured by your physician you are not diagnosed with any eating disorders."

Jack glared at the guilty-looking doctor, but said nothing. The MECH leader's eyes narrowed.

"So tell me, why are you not eating?" he demanded in a low tone.

"I technically wasn't lying," the boy tried.

Silas scowled and stormed forward. Classically conditioned, Jack flinched back, away from his captor, away from the pain, only for his blood to freeze when his back pressed against the wall. Immediately panic seized his chest and his breath caught in his throat. Only for a cry to spring free as Silas's fingers dug into his scalp, tearing at the roots of his hair and yanking his head back at a painful angle.

"You know what I think?" the ex-SEAL snarled, his face only an inch away from Jack's. "You're just a spoiled little brat with no discipline so you insist on fighting me every step of the way. Or maybe you're hoping on skipping one too many meals, hmm?"

"Maybe I am," Jack retorted, his strained voice cutting through gritted teeth. "But I thought the point was making me as miserable as possible, right?"

"Let me make something clear. I can make you suffer in ways you will not _believe._ I can break every bone in your body, I can tear you apart, but you _will not die_." The boy flinched as he felt hot breath on his neck and heard Silas's growl in his ear. "Because I _own_ you. You are _mine_ , and I can do whatever I want to you."

 _"_ _You are mine, and mine alone."_

Jack couldn't stop the whimper that escaped, but if Silas heard it, he didn't mention as he continued, "And if you're going to act like a finicky little pet, then I will _force_ it down your throat." At that, the man turned to DiBiase. "We have a feeding tube laying somewhere around here, correct?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable with the question, but answered, "Y-yes, sir."

The teenager still tried to remain strong. "I'll just throw it up."

The grip on his scalp tightened threateningly as Silas insisted, "Then we'll keep doing it until it stays down."

Jack shook his head, but the movement was limited in his captor's cruel hold. "I _can't_ eat!"

DiBiase looked torn. "Jack, just do what he says." Then he added in a softer tone, "Please."

"I'm not lying!"

"DiBiase, go get his food, _now_ ," Silas barked.

"W-wait! I swear! It's the truth!"

The MECH leader's growl was menacing. "Why should I believe you?"

Jack's heart was hammering against his chest. Even on a good day, he could barely eat a full meal without purging it. He knew MECH's solution would just be another torture. He didn't want that _thing_ down his throat, forcing _sludge_ into his stomach that would only be immediately rejected. The boy's mouth moved before his brain realized what he was saying.

"I-it's the dark energon!" he cried, desperate.

Both men paused, DiBiase even stopping mid-stride towards the door. Silas's grip loosened, ever so slightly.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Jack felt his body trembling without his permission, but he kept babbling, "I don't know how it works! It, it isn't compatible with organic materials. Everything I eat, the energon just rejects it."

"You have to eat. No one can survive that long."

"I-I have to force myself. Ever since I've had it—"

"How?" Silas interjected.

The boy shivered. "It-it was an ac-accident."

It was hardly the truth, but it was a terrible incident he didn't want to remember. A heavy, crushing weight on his chest, pinning him down.

Jack yelped when the grip tightened, tearing roots. Silas's voice was low and dangerous. " _How_?"

Bloody claws in his mouth, down his throat.

"Please…"

That noxious, _horrible_ flavor assaulting his tongue.

"You will tell me, or we will do this here and _now_."

His pleas, Megatron's laughter.

Jack was shaking madly, his hoarse voice hiccupping. He couldn't stop himself in time.

"He-he _made_ me drink it!" he wailed.

The grip loosened, and instead of growls or gasps, he was greeted by silence. The boy hesitantly opened his eyes, to see DiBiase's eyes were wide as moons. Silas's own eyebrows were raised, the only betrayal of surprise he had. It was the doctor that broke the silence, taking a step forward. His voice was soft and careful.

"Who did, Jack?"

"I-I was s-s-sick," the teen babbled instead. "M-M-Me—" He had to stop and swallow. "Megatron thought it would 'fix' me."

DiBiase didn't know the name, but Silas did, when he had captured and tortured one of the tyrant's fiercest fighters.

"The _Decepticons_ gave you energon?" the MECH leader digested, his tone bordering on alarm.

Trying to fight the rush of horrible memories, Jack nodded, numbly. Finally the nails buried in his scalp retracted. He flinched when the hand moved, but it wasn't painful or cruel. Merely smoothing back the hair it had rustled.

Jack wanted to get away, to hide, to escape and never come back, but there was nowhere to go. His mind was a fog and his entire body stung and burned and ached. Exhaustion crashed over him, darkening the bright world. But there was nowhere to go. The army brat slumped forward, limp, his head falling Silas's broad armored shoulder.

The man didn't shove him away like he expected. The palm continued stroking the back of his head. Jack flinched, his muscles tight. Then without his permission, they began to uncoil under the touch. Then DiBiase's thoughtful murmur spoke up again, after a few moments of silence had passed.

"It… makes sense," the doctor analyzed. "If he… consumed it, it explains how we can detect in his blood. Our digestive tract absorbs nutrients through the organs' lining and passes it to the cardiovascular system. If he was exposed to enough of it, his body would begin to reject other fuel sources."

Silas did not reply, and Jack had nothing to say. He remembered that particular itch, that he only felt whenever Megatron gave him dark energon.

 _"_ _So greedy."_

He had never thought it was _hunger._

"DiBiase," Silas suddenly spoke, startling Jack from his thoughts. "You are dismissed."

The doctor was confused. "Sir?"

"Go, Michael."

The tone left no room for refusal, and DiBiase did not dare question his leader again. Face buried in the crook of Silas's neck, Jack didn't see his expression, but the doctor left without a word. Jack didn't want to be anywhere alone with Silas, never mind weak as a lamb in the monster's hold, but he couldn't find the energy to care.

The man never said a word, simply continuing the slow, _gentle_ strokes _._ A sharp contrast to the rest of the dark world, when every touch brought pain. But pressed against the warm chest, away from the cold, the petting was _comforting_. Even if it would only last for just a moment.

 _Jack fell into darkness in the master's arms._

He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	13. Helpless

**I swear school is trying to kill me. DX Sorry about the delay, but here's a longer (and darker) chapter to make up for it.**

 **WARNING: graphic description of torture**

* * *

"This doesn't make any sense."

Lennox couldn't agree more with Epps' words. The lieutenant colonel restlessly paced the length of his office, ignoring the pair of stares boring into his back. Instead, he buried himself in his own thoughts, trying to rely on both his wit and gut instinct that had led his men into battle and saved his life thousands of times. Anything to find an answer, a _solution_.

"We should have gotten a ransom call by now," Epps continued, shifting anxiously in his seat.

Lennox had no answer to that. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything that happened. He knew he should have been furious, that Bulkhead broke, and established communication with Miko, a civilian. And instead of chastising the lonely girl, the Wrecker had gone into a panic, saying something the kids had gotten into trouble again.

The man had Miko and Raf—with Jack, however short of time—living on his base long enough to know about the teenagers' antics. He had hoped it was just another exaggerated incident. That was not the case, when Bulkhead repeated their story. Of course, the humans reacted grimly, while the Autobots went into a frenzy.

Mirage and Smokescreen had activated their weapons in a rage. Ratchet let out a string of Cybertronian curses. Ironhide almost barged through the groundbridge, to "blow some things up," with the twins close behind. Even poor Bumblebee, without a T-cog and weaponless, flared with fury. Yet Lennox believed Arcee's reaction was the most frightening.

Instead of going into a rage like the man expected, the femme was deathly quiet. The only betrayal of emotion she had was the widening of her optics and her wings oddly twitching. While her comrades rallied into a war party, Arcee had slunk back into the shadows. Lennox still had a hard time reading Cybertronians, who weren't as expressive as humans, so he couldn't tell what was going through the Autobot's mind. But he had a pretty good idea.

Optimus Prime, as cool as ever, managed to calm his subordinates to approach the situation rationally. Lennox he didn't have to face it. The NEST commander couldn't risk turning his attention to the children, not because he did not have the time, but because of Galloway. The security advisor had continued their conversation after the excitement of Paris, and behind closed doors, Galloway was not as kind. The leash on the lieutenant colonel's neck had tightened to a chokehold, and Lennox found it hard to breathe even when the government liaison left the island.

There was no way he could explain a military operation caused by _children_. Then again, there was no way he could stand up against ten angry giant robots. Lennox couldn't just ignore the fact an American life was in danger. That _Jack_ was in danger.

He sent Epps, and a small group, people that could stay quiet both on and off the battlefield. However, when the squadron of special forces and group of vengeful Autobots arrived to the provided coordinates, there was nothing. Only cold, lifeless shells of buildings.

Not a single MECH soldier, or even a lone vehicle.

There was practically no sign of the terrorist organization. Except for the destroyed hanger in the center of the compound. There was an explosion. A big one. The walls and floors were completely blackened, covered by scrap and debris. Chunks of the building had even been blasted away, leaving torn, gaping holes. It was the proof to Miko and Raf's story. That, along with the empty shell of a Transformer.

The one that MECH had built, using stolen parts, energon, and Bumblebee's T-cog. All of it, burnt to a crisp, from the inside out. Ratchet would have to perform a miracle.

Lennox was aware of Simmons's eyes following him as he continued his frantic strides across the room. Even the energetic man had sobered by the news, his lips pulled in a frown and his dark eyes thoughtful.

"Have we considered the possibility there may not be a ransom?" Simmons questioned.

Lennox shook his head. "We didn't find a body, Simmons. If MECH killed Jack—"

"That's not what I meant." When the NEST commander squinted at the ex-government agent, he went on, "According to the kids, Jack stayed in that warehouse, and I have a pretty good guess he had something to do with that explosion. Probably to blow up MECH's superweapon, which I'm pretty sure was _very_ expensive to make." Lennox finally paused, digesting Simmons's words. "I'd say they're pissed." The man shrugged. "At least, I would be."

"But why take him, though? Silas isn't known to have loose ends."

"More importantly, how are we supposed to find him?" Epps spoke up. "We're supposed to direct all our resources to the 'Cons. We do much as _look_ at MECH, Galloway will throw all our asses in the brig."

With a groan, Lennox collapsed in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Thus was the problem. The image of poor Fowler being cuffed and dragged away flashed across his eyes. Oh, how Lennox wished his friend was here. The liaison always seemed to handle the 'Bots. At least, better than Galloway or Simmons ever could.

Now the NEST commander had to mediate an alliance on the brink of total collapse, and Jack's life was in the middle of it. An American life. Someone Lennox had sworn an oath to protect, but now was being told that he couldn't.

Part of him, that dark part of him he hated and depended on, knew he was being silly. He had led raids on entire villages, fought and killed dozens of terrorists, and a few innocents. What was one more life? Was Jack really worth the fate of the world?

Lennox swallowed. The other piece of him argued back. Jack was an ally to the Autobots. He _was_ an Autobot. They were prepared to go war for him. Even if it was against humans.

The lieutenant colonel couldn't find a solution. Every option led to war.

"Don't forget we have the other two kids to deal with," Simmons pointed out unhelpfully.

The other two, Miko and Raf. Scuffed, traumatized, and riddled with guilt. Lennox couldn't send them home like that. His men had found them hiding in the woods, a good few miles away from the compound, where the teenager had finally found a signal to call the Autobots. He had made the decision to bring them to NEST, and the teenagers had clung to their guardians ever since.

"What do you want me to do?" Lennox sighed. "They're _children._ So is Jack. We can't just leave American civilian in the hands of terrorists."

"What do you suggest we do?" Epps asked. "Last genius plan didn't work out too well."

"The 'Bots aren't even allowed to leave our sight," Simmons added.

Lennox rubbed his forehead, realizing they were just going around the same circle.

"Maybe if we keep it quiet," he murmured, low like he thought someone could hear. "Not a battle. Just someone silent that can slip in and out without being detected."

"Good plan, except you got a problem," Epps countered. "We don't even know where MECH _is._ We have no idea how to find them, either. They could be in a cave or under a rock or in a big-ass mansion for all we know."

"If they are building Transformers—" Just saying it aloud was surreal. "—they need the energon. We have detectors. If MECH slips, we'll be able to track them."

"Before or after Jack gets killed?" questioned Simmons. The other two men hardly flinched at the blunt words, but Lennox found his stomach knotting.

He forced himself to say, "MECH took him alive. Means they want him for something."

"Of course they do. He's best friends with the aliens. He knows stuff they don't. To them, Jack's an _asset."_ The former Sector Seven agent fixed them with a hard stare. "And we _all_ know what happens when an enemy gets their hands on an American asset."

Instantly the tense air thickened even more. His stomach knotted. He saw Epps's Adam apple bob thickly.

Finally the chief master sergeant broke the silence, saying, "Jack's a fighter. God knows his father was."

"Still, you said yourself, the kid's a kid," Simmons pointed out. "He can only last for so long."

Lennox found it even harder to breathe. He may have not known Jack personally, but he knew his father. Both men were there that night, when that helicopter—that Decepticon—attacked their base. Lennox had made out it, he had been able to hug his daughter and kiss his wife. John did not. The lieutenant colonel left him there to die. No, he couldn't do the same to Jack.

Suddenly his thoughts were broken by a shrill ringing from his phone. Although Epps and Simmons stirred at the sound, Lennox knew it was not an outside call. The tone determined it was a transfer from another part of the base. With a sigh, the lieutenant colonel answered.

Instantly he was greeted with thunderous claps of metal on metal and vicious, deafening growls. Sounds the NEST commander had heard before. Then a shaky, frantic voice filled the line.

"S-sir—" A monstrous roar. "Ironhide's on a rampage again!"

Lennox groaned inwardly, but kept his voice cool and filled with authority as he replied, "Understood. I'll be shortly."

Before the woman could reply, he ended the call and stood. Epps and Simmons close on his heels, he stormed out of the office. And hope he could stop an intergalactic war.

* * *

Lennox had dealt with a raging Autobot before, especially in the last few days. Bulkhead was the first to go into a fury, though his target had been Ratchet's medbay, much to the medic's chagrin. Ironhide was close behind, randomly firing off his cannons at abandoned vehicles, even when there were humans nearby. Then surprisingly, Ratchet had gone off, banging his rendered-useless tools against the lone console. Soon the computer was rendered useless, too.

The Autobots were certainly more tolerable to the idea of peace than their counterparts, but Lennox had come to the conclusion they were no less violent. The Cybertronians were a proud and mighty race that had lived through _eons_ of war. They were more likely to answer their problems with a punch or a gun, because that was the only solution on Cybertron. Optimus Prime could calm them down, but he could only do so much.

Lennox could see that for himself, as he walked towards the airfield, just as Ironhide grumpily kicked over a Raptor. The jet let out a metallic groan as it crashed to the ground with a terrible thud. The surrounding humans recoiled at the event with frightened wails, while the commander and his companions let out angry yells.

"Ironhide!" Lennox shouted sharply.

"That's one of my birds!" wailed Epps.

"HEY! My taxes pay for that!" Simmons cried. "Will you chill out?!"

Ironhide growled, low and deep, and he turned to the approaching group. While several of the technicians reared back with terrified whimpers, Lennox refused to be intimidated.

"Don't break jets," he scolded, each word loud and clear like a parent chiding a child having a tantrum. The tone only made the proud Autobot growl louder.

"Then what should we do?!" Ironhide yelled. "We can't go after the 'Cons, we can't go after MECH! Everyday Megatron snatches more energon, and now a group of rotten pests has one of our own!" The weapon specialist pointed an accusing finger at the NEST commander. "And you fleshlings tell us to do _nothing_."

The Autobots rarely called their human allies by Cybertronian terms. Lennox had only heard handful of times. Such as when one of the little beings tried to tell the great giants what to do. The man sighed, willing patience, and wondered if Optimus was on his way yet. Though armed with a temper, Ironhide was always loyal to his leader. The lieutenant colonel just hoped he would just listen to the human until then.

For the last several years, Lennox and Ironhide had been the leaders of the NEST's forces. They and had shed blood, sweat, and energon together. They traded tactics, advice, and even friendly words. The two commanders had developed mutual respect for each other, and sometimes, they were something close to partners.

"We're doing everything we can, 'Hide," Lennox assured carefully.

" _How_?" Ironhide roared. "Every time we take a step forward, Megatron is already five ahead! Bumblebee may never transform again! And now Jack has been stolen— _again_!"

"The enemy hasn't won yet—you know that. Once Ratchet fixes Bumblebee's T-cog, we'll be up and running to find Jack—"

" _If_ Ratchet manages to fix it."

Lennox opened his mouth, only to be unable find a reply to that. His stomach knotted at the disturbing image that flashed across his eyes. The technicians pulling the charred, splintered sphere from that _thing_. The man didn't even realize what it was at first, until Bumblebee let out a broken wail. Not it was up to Ratchet.

"Do you doubt your medic, Ironhide?" a deep voice rumbled.

Lennox glanced up at the voice, just as a tall shadow fell over him. He let out a relieved sigh at the sight of Optimus Prime.

Despite the gravity of the situation, the Autobot leader looked calm, looking at his subordinately sternly. Sure enough, Ironhide immediately blinked out of his rage and stood to attention like soldier in front of his commanding officer.

"No, Prime," the weapons specialist answered swiftly.

Optimus nodded in approval. "Good. You are to apologize to our allies, and later you will aid in repairs." Bristling armor fell into place and there was a deflated affirmative. "But now you are to report to base. Bumblebee will want to see his comrades when he wakes."

Another nod from Ironhide, this one much more solemn. The rampage ended just like that, Optimus Prime turned and transformed. Engine rumbling, he waited patiently as his subordinate did the same. Automatically Ironhide opened his doors, including the driver's seat.

As always, Lennox approached the steering wheel cautiously. Many of the Autobots disliked having a human behind their wheel, knowing fully well that their passenger could take control from them at any time. Although some were stronger than others, it was not an experience any of them wanted to risk. It took time to build up enough trust for the extra-terrestrials to relax around their newfound allies. Ironhide was the last to open his driver's door, and he only opened it for Lennox.

The NEST commander settling behind the wheel, keeping his hands off of it and his feet away from the pedals. Epps clambered into the passenger seat and Simmons approached the backseat. Only for Ironhide to rev his engine threateningly.

"Not you," the Autobot growled.

"Huh?"

"You're walking."

"Oh, come on, I thought we put that all behind us!" Simmons wailed. "Aren't we supposed to be good friends by now?"

"No," Ironhide grumbled. With that, the truck drove away, ignoring the poor man trotting after him.

"You're just going to leave me?! 'Hide?! …Old buddy? Old pal?"

* * *

In Hanger E, the air was heavy as Lennox climbed out of Ironhide's cab. Looking around, he found all the Autobots were present, all of them sullen and tense. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe muttered to each other quietly, Mirage paced back and forth, and Smokescreen's doorwings were flat on his back. Bulkhead sulked, unmoving as a mountain, but carefully cradled the two teenagers in his servos.

Both had red and puffy eyes, the teeangers curled in the giant's palm. The man heard a sniffle that suspiciously sounded like Raf. Miko was by his side, rubbing his arm in comfort. Lennox spotted Arcee in the farthest corner, that distant look still in her optics. He wondered who she was more worried for: Bumblebee, her comrade, or Jack, her partner.

There had been a noticeable dent in morale since Bumblebee's T-cog was stolen. Even with their numbers, being down a mech had crippled the Autobots' advantage in the war. When Bumblebee went on a scouting mission only to confront Knock Out, it had ended with disaster—the Decepticons taking off with precious energon and the Autobots humiliated.

Then Ratchet offered his own T-cog. Lennox saw his logic behind the decision. As the only medic on Earth, Optimus could not risk sending the war veteran onto the frontlines, rather leaving Ratcet behind as tech support. No longer the center of the action, the old Autobot's T-cog was not used as much as the energetic warrior. Furthermore, as they were both grounders, Bumblebee's body was likely to accept the donation.

However, the humble scout refused. He couldn't bear the thought of stealing another's T-cog just to replace his own. That was why this had to work. If Ratchet could repair the decimated part, then the Autobots wouldn't have to lose any of their fighters.

As Ironhide and Optimus transformed back into their bipedal modes, the NEST commander saw a flash of white in the corner of his eye.

"I… did what I could," Ratchet reported solemnly as he stepped out of the medical wing, looking at his comrades grimly.

"Our scout could not have been in better hands, old friend," Optimus assured, placing a warm servo on his medic's shoulder.

From Bulkhead's hands, Raf stirred. "C-can I see Bumblebee? Please?"

The old 'Bot frowned and was quiet for a few moments, and Lennox expected him to refuse. Instead, Ratchet answered cautiously, "I think Bumblebee would appreciate seeing you. But I do not want too many visitors at once."

He sent a pointed look at the others as he said the latter, and the Autobots bowed their heads in understanding. Raf scrambled from Bulkhead's hand and trotted across the floor. He followed on Ratchet's heels and the medic turned back inside the medbay. There were the slow, heavy thuds as Optimus trailed behind. After quick order to Epps to stay, Lennox joined the little group.

Bumblebee was on the same berth as before, but instead of bleeding and squirming, the Autobot was still, optics dark in stasis. Ratchet waited until his guests settled around the sedated patient, and then turned on protocols to online Bumblebee.

It was only a matter of moments before blue optics flickered online, and a long, low whine came out. The scout shifted, trying to rise into a sitting position.

"Bumblebee, easy," Ratchet ordered, almost softly, but the Autobot ignored him.

The yellow Camaro swung his legs over the side of the berth, and with around groan-like buzz, he pushed himself on shaky legs. He swayed a little and there was a metallic groan as his pede stabilizers struggled to hold his weight. Optimus and Ratchet both flinched, braced to run to his aid.

"Please, recovery takes time," Ratchet insisted, almost pleading with the restless youngling.

Bumblebee whirred, in what even Lennox could identify as defiance. The Autobot took a shaky step forward, but stayed upright. The ability to stand seemed to boost Bumblebee's confidence. The scout flexed his limbs, waved his doorwings, and ruffled his plating. It almost reminded Lennox of a human stretching. Soon even Raf seemed to match his partner's hopeful demeanor.

"You got this, 'Bee!" the young teenager cheered.

Bumblebee curled his servos into fists. There was the sound of grinding gears and the plating across the Transformer's body shifted. Lennox leaned forward and held his breath, waiting. Only for nothing to happen.

Gears growled in protest. Plating fell back into place. Bumblebee let out a pitiful whimper.

Immediately Lennox sighed and looked away in disappointment. Optimus frowned deeply. Ratchet slumped and shook his head, looking broken.

"What?" Raf cried. "What happened? I though you were able to fix it!"

"The damage was… severe," Ratchet explained, his tone low and empty.

The teenager just shook his head in denial, raising his voice to a broken wail. "N-no, it can't be! You _fixed_ it!"

"Raf," Lennox cut in. He dared to take a step towards the boy, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Sometimes things don't work out—"

" _No_!" The harsh yell even had the lieutenant colonel flinching, not expecting such an outburst from the boy. "I can't lose Bumblebee, too!"

Without warning, Raf ripped out of Lennox's grip, sprinting over to his partner. The scout looked miserable, folding in on himself with dim optics. The teenager wouldn't let him, pressing his little hands against the warm metal.

"Come on, 'Bee! I _know_ you can do it!" Raf insisted. Bumblebee whined in reply. "Don't talk like that! We need you! We _all_ need you! Jack needs you!" The boy sobbed at the name, reminded of the peril his friend was most likely in. "It was Jack that found your T-cog! It's thanks to him we were able to get it back! And now we have to get him back! MECH is going to hurt him if we don't!"

Lennox frowned at the words, and another hiccup came from Raf's throat. The boy shook his head, as if trying to dispel the tears that trailed down his cheeks. He pounded his fists against Bumblebee's pede, hard.

"So you _have_ to do this! You have to _transform_!"

Bumblebee looked down at his partner, letting out another soft whirr. With a sigh, Lennox moved to remove the distraught boy, only to pause when the Autobot shifted his weight. Optics bright with determination, Bumblebee balled his servos into tight fists.

Plating shifted as there was a terrible noise of struggling gears. Ratchet gasped and moved forward, only to stop when Optimus placed a patient servo on his friend's chest. Understanding his leader's silent order, the medic could only frown as Bumblebee tried to transform. Again and again and again.

Lennox shut his eyes, losing hope as he heard the protest of the Transformer's systems over and over. He could only watch, as Bumblebee screamed in frustration. Then something happened.

Gears turned. Plating folded inwards. Tires protruded outwards. Doorwings flattened. The giant metal being shrunk.

In his place, was a bright, yellow Chevrolet Camaro LT, engine revving loudly.

At the first, Lennox didn't even believe his eyes. He didn't even believe the look of amazement on Optimus, or Ratchet _smiling_. No, it couldn't be possible. That T-cog was ready for the scrapyard— It wasn't until he heard an overjoyed cheer that broke him out of his shock.

"Yes! You did it! You did it!" Raf exclaimed, practically jumping up and down.

Bumblebee seemed just as excited, engine roaring with excitement as he drove circles around his charge. Tires screeching across the floor, throwing up smoke, but Lennox hardly minded. Not when they had their scout back.

Their scout, that a day ago was broken, unable to transform. Lennox's smile fell to a frown.

"This was only possible because of Jack," the man murmured lowly. "He sacrificed himself, to at least buy us some time."

Just like Jonathan Darby. The boy was too much like his father. Even with the noise, he had forgotten how acute Cybertronians' hearing was, as Optimus peered down at him.

"We will find a way to retrieve Jackson," the Prime vowed.

"I just hope we find him before it is too late."

The man's morbid thoughts were interrupted by a sharp ring filling the air. The ex-Ranger naturally flinched, muscles tensing. Bumblebee skidded to a stop and Raf whirled around. Optimus and Ratchet glanced up. Then Lennox recognized the sound, coming from the medic's station, and quickly forced himself to relax. Not an alarm.

A communication? But everyone was present on Diego Garcia. The research team had no reason to contact them, either, busy with their own projects.

"What is it?" Lennox demanded.

Ratchet hummed as he crossed over to the giant computer, optics narrowing. "Hmm, that's odd. It's a high-frequency signal… with an imbedded message." Then his gaze widened. "For _me_?"

"Saying _what_?" Lennox marched over, trying to get a view of the screen, even though it was covered with alien script.

"'I have information regarding... one of your pets,'" the medic read stiffly, pausing over the latter part of the sentence. "'Bring medical kit. Come alone.'"

Immediately the lieutenant colonel's chest tightened and the heavy air became thicker, as EM fields flared in distress and gasps sounded. Lennox repeated the message in his mind. "One of your pets"? Did that mean… the children?

He knew of the degrading term the Decepticons referred the Autobots' partners, and the aliens had even began calling his soldiers as such. But Miko and Raf were already in Lennox's custody. The only one of interest, especially by the 'Cons, was…

"Jack?" Raf gasped. "S-someone knows where he is?"

The NEST commander frowned and filled his voice with authority. "Can you tell who it's from?"

Certainly not MECH. They had no way of knowing the frequency to Ratchet's comms, and if they did want to establish communication, they would have gone to Lennox, the commander in charge. Besides, they wouldn't have requested for Ratchet, if they even knew he existed.

But a message from Megatron didn't make any sense, either. The tyrant would far sooner destroy his enemies than ask for their help. Ratchet's fingers flew over the keys, then let out a sharp gasp.

"It's from… Starscream."

* * *

Jack awoke to darkness, alone. The cot was cold, the air biting against his skin. The boy shuddered. Why was it so cold? It was warm before…

Then the Jack flinched, as he remembered why. Silas. The MECH leader had come to check up on his prisoner, to torment him. Only for the army brat to collapse into his arms. The monster that had mocked him, tortured him, and Jack didn't even fight. Didn't even protest when the bastard _petted_ him.

 _What is wrong with me_?

The boy groaned, blinking as he tried to forced himself into a sitting position. He gritted his teeth, as he wrapped his arms around his middle. His body still ached with soreness, his limbs heavy. His stomach twisted painfully, his veins cold and itching. His thoughts drifted aimless. Jack could only focus on one trail of thought.

He hated this. He wanted to go home. He wanted this hell to end.

Of course, the universe denied him. Jack hissed as bright light suddenly filled the room, burning his eyes. Groaning, he forced his eyes to adjust. Not Silas. Immediately the boy stiffened, a heavy block of dread forming in his stomach.

Marcus.

There was only one reason why the man would visit him.

"I'm sorry about that, Jackie," the torturer apologized, but the teenager knew the tone was not sincere. "Silas told me you're not feeling good?"

The man spoke in a light, soft tone, like a fake friend. Jack narrowed his eyes and snarled.

"I don't know what you are talking about, I feel great," Jack retorted. "I see your sarcasm is as annoying as ever."

Marcus crossed over the cot, and Jack felt himself shrinking back with each menacing step. But there was nowhere to go. Pressed against the wall and the torturer blocking the way to the only exit, he was hopelessly trapped. The boy tried, and failed, to suppress a shiver as the man looked over him.

Then he smiled, and Jack's blood grew frigid. It was that cold, cruel grin, that appeared every single time the army brat screamed.

"You know what, I got something that will help feel better," Marcus's voice was sickly sweet. "How about a _bath_?"

"I'm going to say 'no' to that," Jack replied automatically, even as his stomach knotted even tighter. He didn't know what the torturer was talking about. He didn't _want_ to know.

"Oh, come on, you'll enjoy it."

And before Jack could work up another protest, an icy hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He yelled at the iron grip, tried to jerk free as the hand pulled painfully. But his body was too weak, his limbs were too heavy, his muscles hurt too much. Jack growled as was dragged out of the cot by the scruff of his neck.

He tried to gain his footing on the floor, only for his knees to buckle underneath him. Strong arms wrapped around his middle, keeping him from collapsing.

"Easy, now," Marcus chided, and yanked Jack to his feet.

One hand on his arms, the other wrapped around his chest, the boy have half-ushered, half-carried out of the room. They always made him walk, which was its own form of torture. It was like they were making him face his next punishment, like he had a _choice_. Sometimes when he refused—when he _couldn't_ —walk, Marcus would force him to his feet or hit him until he complied. Jack's captors did not bind him room-to-room, either, which was an insult itself. MECH obviously were not concerned that their prisoner could fight back.

Jack tried to pay attention where they were going, tried to memorize the route, but as always the blank walls always looked the same. Everything was a blur, and there were times the boy was convinced his captors always went a different way to confuse him.

Jack didn't know how long they walked, and it was still far too soon when they came another door, made of steel and guarded by two sentries. That watched him with sadistic eyes. Instantly panic filled the boy's chest as he realized what this was.

" _No_!" he screamed, trying to yank out of Marcus's grip.

He flailed and punched and kicked, but the MECH kept a firm hold on him. Over his screams, Jack faintly heard the squeal of the door opening and felt the pressure on his chest as the bastard dragged him further.

"Quit it!"

White flashed across his eyes as something struck Jack's temple, hard. His head lolled with a moan, another wave of pain coursing through his body. He went limp in his captor's hold, hoping at least the dead weight would hinder the tormenter.

Marcus said something, possibly to one of the other soldiers. Sure enough, the teenager screeched as a second pair of hands wrapping around his ankles. He wheezed as he was lifted into the air, his body hanging between the two men uncomfortably. Jack blinked rapidly, trying to focus his double vision and adjust to the gloom of the room.

It looked like the rest of the compound—dark and lifeless. Something black and inky flickered across Jack's gaze. He blinked, thinking it was his imagination. He blinked a few times, realizing it was real. A large tub of water, taking up almost half of the cramped room, just like Marcus promised. Only his hair stood on end as frigid horror coursed through his body, as he saw white, jagged chunks floating across the surface.

 _Ice_.

"Nonononono!"

Like a fire was ignited inside him, Jack screamed as he renewed his struggles. He screeched and spat, writhing and flailing madly, but it do no use. The MECH agents kept their hold on him, carrying up and over. Marcus snapped something he did not hear.

Then a thousand needles dug into Jack's skin. The boy's shriek cut off, open still opened wide, as the air was ripped from his lungs. He could not even command his body to move—like it had completely disconnected from his mind. His body was lowered into the frigid water even more. Jack hiccupped.

Marcus laugh, cruel and sinister. "See? I told you that you'll enjoy it."

Jack remembered once, in Washington, his father had taken him hiking for an early spring trip. Some of the ponds were still frozen over, and after an entire winter of sliding across their surface, the little boy thought nothing of it. Dad's frantic shout came too late—he had fallen straight through the ice with a scream. The Ranger had to pull the frozen boy from the water, holding him close, trying to warm him, as Jack wailed and cried for hours on end. Not from the cold. From the _pain_.

His skin _burned_ , icy fangs digging into his body, chilling him to the bone. Jack tried to force himself up, only he was pushed back down, hissing as his upper torso was swallowed up by the inky water. . His teeth chattered against his will. The teen tried to clench them together to keep them in place, but it only worsened.

"S-s-stop, p-p-please," Jack forced out, even though that shred of logic that remained knew it was useless.

His tormenters only wanted to see him suffer, only laughed at his misery. They wouldn't save him, they wouldn't pull him from the waters that tried to drown him, they wouldn't warm him. They weren't Dad. Dad was not here.

A weird, quiet noise escaped Jack's throat. "D-d-d-d-da—"

"Put him under."

Fingers twisted into his hair, and suddenly he was drowning. Jack let out a silent scream, but instead of airless gasp, a stream of bubbles escaped his mouth. Needles dug into inch of his face. It _hurt_!

The sensation seemed to last for eternity, then finally, air returned to his lungs. Jack hacked, his muscles burning in protest. His shivering seemed to increase tenfold. He gasped, trying to fill his lungs, but his captors denied him that luxury. The air was taken away, replaced by the inky water and icy fangs.

Jack wanted escape. He wanted it all to end. He wanted his father to pull him from the ice, tell him it was going to be okay. Tell him that he was _his_. For all of time.

Through burning frigidness, Jack felt the darkness stir, thirsty and violent. He wanted to collapse into it, fall into its embrace. He wanted to tear them all— _No, don't give in._

Tentatively, he reached out, to _him_. He would protect him, right? Mega—

Jack brushed against a wall.

Immediately his heart, struggling to fight against the frigidness invading his body, seized. Nothing. There was nothing. No assurance, no protection, no escape. The army brat was alone, trapped in this hell. For all of time.

No one would help him.

Air returned to his lungs, and Jack screamed.


	14. What You Fear

**I'm back, baby! A longer chapter than normal to make up for the long delay. Next couple chapters are already partially written, and I have a pretty solid idea where I want the story to go. So be expecting the next update soon, along with a couple other stories I'm working on.**

* * *

Jack shivered. His teeth chattered and his knees knocked together, no matter how tightly he held them. He was on his pitiful little cot, curled in a ball. His chest bare, and his captors hadn't bothered to replace the shirt they tore away nor did they give him a blanket, leaving him exposed to the frigid air.

The army brat coughed, violently. His body convulsed and he wrapped his freezing arms around his middle. He didn't know how long the coughing fit lasted, only that he was left even more sore. The boy ached to the bone, his limbs cemented to the mattress beneath him. His skin stung horribly, between the deep wounds littering his body and the phantom needles that continued to bite him.

Jack had not broken when they threw him in the ice bath, nor the three times after that. The army brat tried to put up a brave facade, tried to brace himself each time, and each time he failed. He screamed and screamed and screamed as the sharp sensations viciously assaulted his body, until his torturers got tired of listening to him and forced his head under the water. They were careful not to drown him, only silencing him for a few seconds at a time. But once Jack blacked out, only wake up to Marcus slapping his face.

Like they did after every session, they would drag him back to his cell and unceremoniously drop him on the floor. They did not bother to dry him off, leaving Jack wet and miserable for hours. The first time, the teenager merely trembled. The second, he began coughing. The third, Jack was left in this pitiful state.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? It was impossible to tell. Even with the endless, sick routine, everything mixed together in a blur of agony.

Did anyone know where he was? Did anyone know he was _alive_? Jack tried to cling to the hope, that Miko and Raf escaped. But what if they didn't? Or, what if they escaped, but couldn't call for help? _Didn't_ call for help?

They had left him before. Just like Arcee had left him. She hated him now. Jack remembered her bitter, broken tone when she said she never wanted to see him again. The boy did not blame her.

He had hurt her. His guardian, his partner, and instead of trying to fight for her, he fell into Megatron's arms. Jack had betrayed the Autobots, he had betrayed mankind, by agreeing to play the warlord's twisted game. Now the Decepticon would be bored of his pet, now that Jack failed his task. Megatron had probably already forgotten about him.

Maybe he deserved this. For all the horrible things he'd done, all the people he had hurt, this hell was his punishment. Jack wasn't going to hold onto the illusion that he would escape, that someone would save him. He was going to die here. Abandoned, forgotten, and alone.

Jack's eyes stung, a watery film covering over his vision. He quickly shut them tight. No, he couldn't cry. He couldn't let them know. He couldn't break. He had to be strong. Soldiers don't cry—

Suddenly a cold hand laid across his shoulder, ripping him from his thoughts. Jack jolted with a gasp, realizing who it was. Nonono—

"P-p-p-please," he begged through the shivers. "I c-can't, I _can't._ Please l-leave m-m-me alooone."

Instead of Marcus's sadistic chuckle, there was another voice, soft and careful.

"It's alright, Jack," DiBiase whispered. The teen only shivered more with a keen, flinching away. The doctor blinked, as if surprised by his reaction, and then his eyes narrowed to a glare. He turned another figure standing at the door. "What are you trying to do?! Give him hypothermia?!"

Marcus looked bored, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his chest.

"If it helps," the torturer shrugged.

"Are you crazy, or are you just stupid? How is he supposed to help our research if he loses his extremities to frostbite? Or if his brain shuts down?"

Before the guard could reply, DiBiase turned back to Jack's hunched form. The teenager instinctively flinched when the frigid hand laid across his brow. There was an infuriated hiss.

"He's burning up," the surgeon gasped.

Hesitant and gentle, DiBiase turned Jack onto his back, coaxing his balled up body to straighten out. Only for the physician let out another seethe at the angry red gashes along his abdomen, tainted with a sickly, yellow tint.

"And you exposed him to water before his wounds properly healed?" the surgeon cried. "Do you know how much damage that can do to an injury like this?"

Marcus didn't seem phased, his black eyes lacking empathy as he failed to digest DiBiase's panic at all.

"I think you forget why he's in here, doc," the monster only retorted. "It's your job to fix him so we can break him again."

Jack flinched at the cruel statement, but DiBiase didn't notice as he whirled around to face the other man again.

"It's my job to keep him _alive_!" he shouted. "Now thanks to your incompetence, he has an infection that's just going to get worse if I don't treat it."

The doctor looked back to Jack, taking in the sight of the shivering boy. He wore that torn expression again, lips pulled in a frown and eyes narrowed. Then DiBiase swallowed, placing his arm around Jack's shoulders. With a murmur of encouragement, the physician pulled him into a sitting position. The boy wheezed as a fresh wave of pain coursed through him, but managed to stay upright.

"What are you doing?" Marcus demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm taking him to the medical wing," DiBiase informed, not even looking at his associate as he swung Jack's legs over the side of the bed. "He needs proper treatment."

"If Silas—"

"Wants his subject alive, he's coming with me." DiBiase gently took Jack's arms, meeting his gaze. He spoke softly, so that only the boy could hear, "Can you walk?"

The teen's muscles screamed with protest, and his mind rejected the idea of going anywhere with the traitor. Despite that, he nodded numbly, hands clasping around the man's wrists. Working together, Jack trembled as he forced himself to his feet as DiBiase pulled. Pain coursed through his legs as his knees quivered, but he stayed upright.

He took a shaky step, then another and another. DiBiase gently guided him for a few paces, and Jack found himself leaning against the man for support. Marcus narrowed his eyes further into a glare, but when DiBiase returned it with his own, the torturer stepped to the side. It was the first time, in a long time, that Jack stepped out of the cell without the promise of pain.

* * *

Jack didn't know what happened after DiBiase took him from his cell. Everything after that went by as a blur. Bright light and dark shadows passed over his vision. Soft touches and sharp pricks pressed against his skin.

His body felt heavy, like someone had sapped all the strength from his muscles. His mind was in a fog, unable to complete a single thought without moving on to the next. A rough blanket was wrapped around him, tight, but he couldn't stop shivering. Everything was so _cold_.

The teenager slipped in and out of unconscious. He fell asleep when a numbing sensation spread across his limbs, but only for a burst of tremors to wake him up. Jack heard voices. One was deep and unnerving, while the other was cool and oddly familiar. Both sounded annoyed, hostile, but the boy couldn't decipher what they were saying. He could only pick up snippets.

"—enough for a dosage, maybe two."

"—you _insane_?!" Jack faded into unconscious, only for a yell to immediately bring him back to senseless wakefulness. "—rgon did this to him!"

A harsh tone, loud and vicious. "—ant results? –expert or not? _Do it_."

Pain pulsed behind the teen's eyes. He wanted to tell them to shut up, to leave him alone. He wanted to go home, with his friends, his family. He wanted _her_ , to tell him everything was going to be okay, that she wouldn't let anything happen to him. Jack wanted _him,_ to end the nightmare.

The miserable boy forced his eyes open, but his eyelids were impossibly heavy. Only when he did, he was greeted with a blinding light and the pain flared. He squinted his eyes with a groan. He tried to flinch, but he couldn't move. Instead, he could only stare at the pair of silhouettes standing above him. He meet uncertain eyes and a cold, hard gaze.

Then there was a prick on his arm, the needle sliding under his skin and into his vein. It was then the frigidness vanished, replaced by _scorching_ heat. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire, burning him from the inside out, as wave after wave of fresh agony washed over him.

Jack heard a distant, high-pitched screech. Through the haze, it took him several long seconds to realize it was _him_. The flame, the all-consuming darkness, coursed through his veins, burying into his heart. It was then the poor boy felt something twist in a horrible way, something deep. He didn't know what it was, only that the _thing_ stirred restlessly, like a bear disturbed from its slumber.

And then it was gone.

The raw heat and the searing agony vanished.

As soon as the violent attack had begun, it was over. Jack was no longer shivering, only heaving desperately, trying to refill his empty lungs. His throat was sore, adding to his misery. A layer of sticky sweat covered his skin, making him feel hot and uncomfortable. With a broken moan, the teenager tried to open his eyes once again, only to be greeted with a large, pale hand moving over his vision. A warm palm pressed against his brow, only to confirm it was clammy and cool.

"His fever broke."

* * *

Jack must have passed out, because the next time he became aware, he felt heavy. It was hard to open his eyes, and only when he did, harsh white light greeted him. He hissed and shut his eyes. When did the light turn on? Usually his captors left it off, leaving him in blackness. Only DiBiase bothered to turn on the overhead light when he looked over the boy's injuries. Was he here?

The military brat turned his head to the side, but it was difficult to do even that. His body felt strange. He felt warm—too warm—with a tingling sensation rolling over his skin. It wasn't pain, but it wasn't numbness, either, yet his limbs felt like they were made of lead. There was soft plush around him, keeping him in a cocoon of warmth.

A bed? That wasn't right. The only thing he had to sleep on was a hard mattress of a cot. It was then Jack became aware of a pungent smell, like disinfectant. It oddly reminded him of the hospital when he visited Mom. Not his cell.

What? With a groan, the teen gritted his teeth and tried to open his eyes again. He had to blink his heavy eyelids several times, but eventually he adjusted to the fluorescent light above him. Definitely not his cell. Then where was he? Jack felt a flicker of hope. Maybe the 'Bots found him, he was safe—

The naïve moment vanished when the army brat shifted his limbs, only to hearing a clinking sound, one he heard before. It was then he became aware of the metal bands biting into his skin, and his heart grew cold. Jack forced his head up, the muscles of his neck straining with effort. Sure enough, he saw steel cuffs bound around his wrists, attached to the railings of the bed.

He was still a prisoner of MECH. No one had come for him.

Jack let out a quivering breath, and his eyes stung for another reason. He should have known better. It was stupid to think that there was someone that cared enough to search for him. The Autobots had rescued him before, but he didn't expect for the same miracle to happen. Especially now that Arcee hated him.

The poor boy swallowed thickly, forcing down tears. Opening his eyes, he scanned his surroundings. It wasn't a hospital room. It looked like a clinic of some sort. He was in a wide room, filled with carts of surgical tools and hanging, flimsy sheets for semi-privacy. On the other side of the space, Jack spied a pair of feet on a makeshift hospital bed like he was. It was eerily quiet, not even the beeping of a heart monitor. Either his captors didn't want to waste one on him, or they didn't have the money for one. Jack didn't put either past them.

His observations were interrupted when suddenly the metal door to the room swung open with squealing hinges and boots clacked against the tiled floor. Instantly the boy shrunk at the hulking form of Silas. As if his misery couldn't get any worse. Then MECH leader noticed Jack, awake and looking about.

Silas's tone was as fake as ever as he asked, "How are you feeling, Jack?"

Disoriented and his mind in a fog, it took a few seconds for Jack to think of reply. "Better until you walked in."

"I see Marcus wasn't able to beat that annoying sass out of you."

Jack inwardly flinched at the mention of his torturer, but he kept his brave facade, mocking, "You sound disappointed."

Silas merely huffed and crossed the room in a few strides. Jack found himself leaning back further and further with each step, only to realize there was nowhere for him to go. Weak and chained to a bed, he was trapped. The teen could only snarl pitifully when the extremist loomed over him.

Silas raised a hand. Jack winced.

Classically conditioned, he braced for the blow and the resulting pain, but it never came. Fingers pressed against his cheek. The touch was firm, yet gentle, but the army brat flinched away like it was acid.

"Your fever's still down at least," Silas observed, thankfully pulling his hand away.

"What?"

The MECH leader ignored him, instead seizing a corner of the blanket laid over him and pulled it back. Jack hissed through his teeth as the warm layer was removed, exposing his skin to the cool air. Suddenly those cold fingers returned, this time tracing the pink scars across his stomach. Jack spasmed in reflex.

"Get away from me!" he snarled, pulling at the cuffs, but the metal only dug deeper into his wrists.

Silas didn't react to the outburst, wearing that guarded mask, but he pulled his hand away. "Fascinating. Once you had that seizure, here I was thinking you were a goner, but all the signs of infection are gone. Everything's even healed up, too."

While Jack just squinted in confusion, the man looked up with an odd look in his eyes. It made the boy's skin crawl. It was then he registered his captor's words. Wait… _seizure_?

"I had a s-seizure?" he gaped. "H-how?"

He wasn't that injured, was he? Or did the constant torment finally break something in his body, interfered with something sensitive in his brain? Jack wasn't really sure what caused a seizure, but he knew it had something to do with a malfunctioning nervous system, and it wasn't good.

Silas seemed to ignore his growing panic, explaining nonchalantly, "At first, it seemed your body was rejecting the donation, but then it changed its mind."

Jack only blinked, the madman's words making no sense. Rejected? Donation? What was he talking about?

"Donation of _what_?" he demanded.

His voice was horribly hoarse, so it wasn't as harsh as he wanted it to be, and Silas only scoffed in amusement.

"I'll be honest, brat, I really thought you were bullshitting me when you explained that dark energon ordeal," the MECH leader drawled as he finally moved away from Jack's side, only to start pacing before the bed. "But it only took a matter of seconds for it to acclimate to your body…"

The teen shook his head, completely lost. It was hard to listen to Silas's rambling, and it was even harder to process it. Jack didn't know if it was because of the trauma or the drugs. They would always give him an injection between or during sessions, and it was always something different. An anesthetic or a sedative to keep him quiet, or something to amplify the pain or truth serum to make him scream louder. Once they had given him a shot of pure adrenaline, and he thought his heart was going to explode. Was that what Silas was talking about? Had they dosed him with another vile drug?

"What… what did you do to me?" he demanded, but it came out as a weak, frail murmur, horror rising in his chest.

Silas finally turned back to him, looking over his shoulder with that twisted sneer. That odd look was back. Was that… fascination? No, it was too _intense_ , but Jack did not dare describe it as lust. It was something worse.

It was then Silas pulled something out of his pocket, nonchalantly tossing it in Jack's direction and the boy felt a light weight on his lap. Squinting in confusion, he glanced down, only to be greeted with an obsidian chain. Both ends looked like they had been snapped, as if it had been connected to form a loop. Jack knew it had been, just like he knew what it was.

His _necklace_. The one Megatron had left him for his birthday.

"H-how…" Jack stuttered, and he had to try a couple times before he managed to demand, "How did you get this?"

"Picked it up in Paris," Silas replied. "Not too far from where we found that alien pod."

 _What_ — _When_ ―

Jack could only latch onto a single word. _Paris_. Then through the fog in his mind, he remembered. Ravage. The cassette had pounced on him, trying to get the spark extractor, and then when Jack had escaped, he had only bumped face-first into Ratbat. Had the necklace broken off sometime during the chaos?

But he would have noticed that, right? He surely did not want to tell Megatron he _lost_ it. But then he realized. Everything had been a frantic blur since the Battle of Paris. Jack had been so busy trying to shove down the intrusive thoughts, shut out the blood-bond, he didn't allow himself to _think_ about Megatron. Or the necklace Now he regretted it.

MECH had it. They took it. They _stole_ it.

Then looking down at the ebony chain, Jack realized there was something _wrong_. The shard of dark energon. It was _gone._

"The crystal!" he gasped. He sent a scathing glare in Silas's direction. "It—it had a crystal. What did you do with it?"

He waved a dismissive hand in Jack's direction, as if the boy had been asking an obvious question.

"I'll give you three guesses," Silas mocked.

Jack gritted his teeth, tired of the madman's mind games. It was hard enough to focus on his surroundings. It didn't help that his limbs stayed pinned to the mattress, with unnatural warmth spreading through his veins. Jack hadn't felt like this since—

He stiffened.

"No…"

It was a low, inaudible breath of denial. _No_. MECH couldn't have—they _couldn't_.

"For someone who throws a fit about your _… condition_ ," Silas's words cut through. "You don't seem to mind carrying a shard of radioactive poison around your neck."

Jack didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe it. But the darkness stirring in his heart said otherwise. The dark energon, the shard, the pendent, had been melted down and it was _in_ him. Only one word could process.

" _How_?"

"I'll say one thing about that rambling tin can, Star-scream: he helped us a great deal in understanding Transformers. Including how to refine their fuel source. En-er-gon, I believe you call it?" It was then the MECH leader's nasty smile widened. "It even works for _dark_ energon."

Jack trembled with rage, baring his fangs. Megatron had given the shard to _him_. Regardless of what ulterior motive the Decepticon lord may have had, Silas had no right to it.

"Then why bother injecting me with it?" the boy spat. "You already know I'm immune to it."

"A theory that needed to be tested," Silas retorted. "All we had was your word for it."

"So you just spiked me with it, because, what—you wanted to test my bluff?"

"To see if it would _heal_ you."

Jack stiffened. No, they couldn't have— The boy opened his mouth to refute the madman, to protest, but looking into those triumphant eyes, he realized. They _knew_.

How many times had DiBiase treated his wounds, only for them to vanish the next day? Jack had hoped the fresh injuries would distract the doctor, that his curious hums were merely done in thought. That Silas would think of nothing of the pink, healing scars. The teen should have realized there was no hope here.

"Incredible," Silas breathed. Jack swallowed thickly and looked away, hearing the falls of heavy boots as the extremist continued his pacing. "I must say, you've been a great contribution to our research, brat. Soon, our Project Chimera will reach its final phases."

"You haven't even told me what this Project Chimera _is,"_ Jack retorted. "What is all of this _for_? Why use me? Why—" The poor boy had to swallow to find the will to say the words. "Why _torture_ me, stitch me up, just to do it over all again?" He narrowed his eyes to a hateful glare. "Is it even for 'science' anymore? Or do you hate me that much?"

The army brat didn't expect Silas to pause at that, giving him a long, considering look. Finally—

"A little bit of both, I suppose."

Even though Jack suspected as such, to hear the words, _confirming_ it—it made his blood boil. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his skin, trying to control his trembling limbs.

"So that's what this is really all about?" the prisoner spat. "You don't care about your 'research.' You just want to tear me apart, like the rest of the world. You would watch it _burn,_ so everyone would suffer just like _you_."

 _"_ _I can make you suffer in ways you will not believe."_

"Oh, _please_ ," Silas scoffed. "MECH doesn't even need to work to destroy the planet. Humanity is doing that just fine by itself. Just look at what happened to your father—your _uncle_."

Whatever retort that was on Jack's tongue died at that as his heart stopped. His uncle. General David Darby. The boy didn't remember much of him. In fact, the only images he had of the man was from pictures.

But he remembered that dark day. His uncle was not supposed to be there. The Pentagon was under reconstruction, and the entire wing was closed. But he had gone to his office, either for some minor thing or to find out why New York City was burning. No one expected the military headquarters to be next. General Darby did not survive.

It was the only time Jack had seen his father cry.

The army brat grinded his teeth and looked down at his lap. Silas took his silence as confirmation, and jumped on it like a lion on a gazelle.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about." Silas continued his pacing, taking on a tone akin to Jack's teachers when lecturing, "Increased rate of non-conventional warfare, increased causality rate, increased economic crisis, crime, pollution, global warming—we are a generation away from seeing to our own demise. The Earth has seen five mass extinctions, and we are currently in the _sixth_."

"All MECH does is make things _worse_ ," Jack snarled.

"On the contrary." Silas paused his pacing to look back at his prisoner. "We will offer a solution to this problem. Now thanks to the technology of the Transformers—and _you_ —we can now make that dream a reality."

"Must be real convenient for you to take out the people that pissed you off along the way."

The MECH leader's jaw clenched, but he didn't give Jack the satisfaction of a true reaction. "Government regulations are merely an obstacle in battle to overcome. With them out of the way, we will be able to mass produce _thousands_ of living robots to fight for us. With their technology, we could change the world. And humanity? We will never be the same."

Silas broke off with a dark chuckle. His words became more and more powerful with each word, his voice filled with an almost husky tone. It only made Jack's skin crawl, as each sentence sounded madder than the last. Especially since he knew what this was leading up to.

"Let me go out on a limb: you're going to accomplish that with dark energon," the boy growled.

"If it can do to others what it can do to you, it will be the key to unlocking our _evolution_." That nasty smile returned, dark lust filling the madman's gaze. "Starting with those that serve under MECH."

The crawl turned to outright revulsion, and Jack shuddered. That crazed expression, that obsessive ambition—the teenager wondered if this is what Megatron was like, when he murdered the High Council, starting the Great War. The warlord had sought to conquer Cybertron, only to have it destroyed.

But Silas wasn't Megatron. He was something worse.

For a long moment, Jack was lost for words. He couldn't even process the extremist's speech, never mind fathom such an idea.

Instead, his mind refused to accept it, instead spitting out, "That's _insane_ , Silas."

"No, it's _possible._ " While Jack could only stare, the ex-SEAL went on simply, "However, not if you die before we get the proper results. I could send you back to Marcus, but you'll just get weaker and weaker until your body gives out."

The prisoner couldn't help but flinch. He tightened his fists and swallowed, biting back any protest, any emotion. He watch wearily as Silas turned, nearing him in slow, dangerous strides.

"We know the dark energon in your body reacts to stress, but obviously we are inducing the wrong kind. So, tell me, brat—" Without warning, Silas reached out, grasping Jack's chin. He winced at the strong grip, instinctively pulling away, but the MECH leader merely tightened his hold. He tilted the teen's head so the youth could only stare into those cruel, black eyes. "—What do you fear the most?"

Jack didn't know how to respond. Silas had said it so calmly, so _casually_ , and it turned his blood cold. Like he did not ask something so secret, so _intimate_. Jack had a list of fears, but he wasn't about to tell any of them to his captor. Only one being in the universe knew them all.

It took a few seconds, but finally Jack forced his head to tilt into Silas's hand, putting a fake smile on his lips.

"Any kind of doll. Saw _Chucky_ when I was a kid and it scarred me for life—GAH!"

Jack's mocking tone was cut off with a pained grunt as suddenly a solid fist slammed into his temple. White flashed across his vision and his neck snapped painfully to the side. At least the grip was no longer on his neck.

"Say your little jokes," Silas hissed lowly, stepping away with a disgusted sneer. "Let's see how long your sense of humor lasts. GUARDS!"

Jack was blinking, dazed, but he managed to see the door swing open and two armored agents step in. With a jerk of the head from Silas, the pair neared the bed, one settling on either side. The teen tensed as they unfastened his cuffs, already pulling at his arms to move him into a sitting position. Together, the guards roughly yanked him from the bed, keeping a relentless hold on him the entire time.

Only when Jack's feet met the cold floor, his knees buckled. The agents caught him before he crumpled to the ground, holding him steady even as he hissed and flailed like a rabid animal. But his attempts were too weak and his captors were too strong. They half-carried, half-dragged him out of the medical bay, a stern Silas close behind.

Once again, the teenager tried to map out a route as they took him through the building, but everything was so fuzzy. It seemed like eternity had passed, walking through the same lifeless halls he dreaded, before they came to a door. When did Silas move in front?

The MECH leader opened the door and Jack dug his heels in. He snarled aggressively at his captors, even as his heart hammered in his chest, terrified what they had in store for him this time. Another beating? Another bath? He couldn't tell, and he didn't like that Silas was here. He _never_ oversaw Jack's sessions.

Jack tried to summon whatever strength was left in his body, pushing against his captors. But it was no use. The burly soldiers easily shoved him inside, and the boy whimpered. Instinctively, he took in his surroundings, only to find a plain, barren room. At least there were no torture devices, but that didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it only made him more anxious.

"Do you want to go home, Jack?"

The question caught him off guard. He blinked in confusion, glancing at a circling Silas. The teen swallowed, knowing lying would be pointless.

"Yes," he answered, unable to keep the desperation and longing from his voice.

The madman stepped forward, and Jack braced. Instead of a brutal slap, there was a brush of fingers across his brow. He shuddered as the extremist took a lock of his raven hair, brushing it aside. Jack flinched as he felt hot breath on his neck, and a low murmur in his ear.

"Then I will let you go," Silas purred, like it was a promise he would keep. "You will never see me again. You can be with your friends, your family. Your mother must be worried sick about you…"

Jack's stomach twisted. _Mom_. Did she even know where he was? What was happening? The teenager wished she didn't. She didn't deserve to suffer, knowing her son was trapped inside a hell, and helpless to save him.

The army brat shut his eyes tight, trying to block out Silas, the agents holding him, his mother's smile. MECH had already hurt her once. He couldn't let them do it again.

"L-leave her alone," he whispered, pleading.

"Then tell me about the dark energon. _Everything_. Tell me how to control it."

"…I-I don't _know_."

Jack didn't think Silas would believe him if he explained his blood-bond with Megatron, and he was telling the truth, anyway. He still didn't understand how it worked, how the warlord's will and bloodlust bled through the connection. He tried to look passive, clueless even, as Silas's dagger-like glare bore right into him, as if trying to pierce through his skin and peer into his soul. However, it seemed the MECH leader didn't find anything.

He released his hold on his capture, spinning around as he growled dangerously, "Have it your way."

Silas stormed to the center of the room, and Jack's confusion only grew as he noticed a metal sheet laying across the floor. What was that? Was that a handle? The madman pulled on it, and the sheet rose with a rusty squeak.

Jack's heart stopped. His knees buckled, but the guards' cruel hold kept him from crumpling to a limp heap.

At first he was a greeted with a dark abyss, but his brain quickly translated what it was. Dug into the ground was a hole—no, a _pit_. Just wide enough to fit a single human, and deep enough to lay down in and no more, but difficult to quickly climb out of. Jack realized what this was, and his claustrophobia seized him in a vice grip.

"No…" he murmured inaudible whisper, only for the single word to repeat itself, as it was the only thing he could process. "No, no, no, nonono _no_!"

His fight instinct flared like a wildfire. Somehow Jack found his footing. He flailed, kicked, punched, and bit against his captors, screaming at the top of his lungs.

" _Let me go! Let me go!"_

"Bring him here," Silas ordered, his voice cold.

The MECH agents followed their leader's order, forcing the panicking boy towards the pit. Jack's chest became tighter and tighter with each step, the walls closing in around him—suffocating, constricting, _dark_.

 _Trapped_.

"Stop!" Jack wailed.

"What's wrong, Jack? You're not _afraid_ , are you?"

"Please! Please, don't do this!"

"Then give me what I want."

Silas's cruel tone increased Jack's shivering. The guards had paused at the edge of the pit, and the boy had to use all his willpower not to look down. He glanced up at the MECH leader, but his face was dark as ever.

"It just happens! I don't know _how_! I don't know how it works! I don't know what you want!"

Jack was rambling, as fast as he could manage, but Silas didn't seem to take in a word.

"You're lying," the extremist snarled.

"I _swear,_ Silas!"

The MECH leader's expression remained impassive, merely regarding his prisoner. By now Jack was heaving, panting from his frantic flails and on the edge of hyperventilating. For a short, naïve moment, the teenager thought the man would finally see reason, and believe him. Then—

"Drop him."

The guards wasted no time, both roughly shoving the prisoner forward. Jack couldn't even work up a protest, letting out a screech as gravity dragged him down. It wasn't a long fall, but it _hurt_. His shoulder slammed onto solid concrete brutality, and it exploded with pain, still sore from his recent beatings.

Adrenaline racing through his veins, Jack thrashed, still screaming, " _NO_! Please, Silas, _please_!"

His desperate, panicked, _fearful_ pleas fell on deaf ears. Silas looked down at him, devoid of emotion, hands tucked behind his back. The guards shifted beside him, moving faster than Jack could scramble.

" _SILAS!"_

And the metal sheet slammed down above him, blocking out the world, the sun, the light, beyond.

The mines of Kaon closed in around him.


	15. Partners

Arcee stepped out of the swirling vortex of the groundbridge with Ratchet by her side, medkit in servo. She paused for a moment, allowing her scanners and navigation system to reset. When they did, she immediately reverted to old instincts, analyzing every detail of her surroundings.

Tall, guarding trees of a forest towered over them and lush, green grass crunched between their pedes. The terrain rose and fell in gentle hills, preventing the Autobot from observing the entire landscape for possible threats. However, she was able to spot a lake not too far away, its waters glittering in the moonlight. It was a full moon tonight, casting a pale glow over the darkened realm.

The night was calm, peaceful, with only the sound of a breath of wind and a call of a distant owl. It put Arcee on edge. She kept her gaze sharp and her scanners alert, placing her battle protocols on standby. Starscream was known for his traps.

The Autobots did not fail to notice that Air Commander had been absent from the Decepticon ranks. Considering he was about to be executed the last time Arcee saw him, she wasn't surprised. She briefly remembered the Seeker had attempted to escape during the chaos of the mines. With everything that had happened since that day, the femme honestly gave Starscream's fate very little thought. She had hoped he had perished in the mine collapse or Megatron finally decided to deal with his treacherous second-in-command once and for all.

Now he was back. No one had any explanation why the Seeker was hailing Ratchet's emergency frequency, asking for _their_ help. Jack would have a comment, something witty or sarcastic that would make Arcee roll her optics in amusement. Occasionally a huff of laughter—

The Autobot shoved down that train of thought. Jack wasn't here. MECH had him. They _stole_ him.

Because she was not there to protect him. Because Arcee had turned her back on her charge. Now, she had to face the consequences of her selfish actions.

"Over there," Ratchet murmured, breaking her from her dark thoughts. The femme pivoted her helm, and sure enough, she saw who they came here for.

The fearsome, treacherous, murderous Starscream, Air Commander of Vos and second-in-command of the Decepticons, looked _pitiful_.

The silver Seeker lay limp against a stone boulder, curled in on himself. His wings pressed against his back, his helm low, and his usually bright red optics were dim. His long talons were wrapped around his middle, with blue, precious energon spilling between his fingers. He had been leaking for a while, as a pool of his own blood stained the ground beneath him. Arcee could hear the wheezing of vents, trying to expel heated air from his overtaxed systems.

The groundbridge snapped closed behind the pair, to prevent Starscream—or any _other_ un-welcomed party—from infiltrating the base. At the sharp sound, the Seeker tilted his helm up. His optics flashed briefly, either with surprise or relief at seeing the red and white medic. Only when he noticed Arcee glaring down at him, the look was replaced by a vicious snarl.

"I told you to come alone!" Starscream shrieked.

Arcee ignored his comment. As if they would listen to _him_.

"Starscream," she greeted coolly. "How the mighty have fallen."

The ex-Decepticon's snarl widened with a growl. The femme knew it was a low blow. Seekers were known for pride—or rather, their _arrogance_. They did not fail to boast they were the most elite flyers of Cybertron, possessed the most elite air force. And so it was natural to come to the conclusion that the Air Commander, the head of that military, was the most powerful individual in Vos—perhaps one of the most powerful individuals of Cybertron. A position, that Starscream coveted.

Arcee had never been to Vos before the War. She had only heard rumors and old tales. Starscream was a fair leader-he kept his people happy and kept the peace. However, his political rivals thought otherwise. As far as the story went, there was no bloodshed. The coup was over as quickly as it started, when the mutineers raided the Seeker Towers and forced Starscream to his knees.

Most likely out of self-preservation more than anything, the Air Commander relinquished his title. But the usurpers couldn't terminate him, not without attracting the attention of the High Council. They would have to declare Vos in a state of rebellion, and send the Elite Guard to restore order, and likely return Starscream to his self-made throne.

So they exiled the disgraced military leader to a lonely space station in Cybertron's orbit, leaving him to rust in humiliation and bitterness. That was where Megatron picked him up. Starscream only became the Champion's right-hand mech because of his military experience, and the promise to bring half of Vos's population to the Decepticon cause.

The Decepticon chain of command had been in chaos ever since.

But Arcee had not come just to settle old scores with the traitor. Her gaze hardened to a deadly glare. Battle protocols came online.

"Where is Jack?" she demanded, her blades ejecting from her arms.

"Patch me up and perhaps I'll tell you," Starscream retorted, a sneer crossing his dermas.

Ratchet cocked an optic ridge at Arcee, who merely scoffed with disgust. "Perhaps we'll just leave you as you are."

"Oh, have sympathy! I'm leaking here!"

"Then speak quickly," Arcee growled. She stepped forward, brandishing her blades in front of the wounded flyer's face. "Where. Is. Jack?"

Starscream recoiled, and panic flashed before his optics. Realizing the only leverage he had was being ripped away and being thrown right back at him. Finally he conceded with a hiss.

"Fine. Fine!" he spat, before lowering his voice, as if he was telling a secret, "It seems your beloved _pet_ as been stolen… by MECH."

Ratchet huffed. "Tell us something we are not aware of."

Starscream's optics went wide and bright, as if he really thought he had one up on the Autobots. "You already _know_?"

"You wouldn't go through the trouble of calling me here unless you had information to trade," Ratchet growled, his expression stern. " _Real_ information."

"A base!" the Seeker exclaimed, no doubt spitting out the first thing that came to his processor. "MECH had a base. Near here."

"We already raided it. They're long gone. _With_ Jack."

" _Ooohhh_!" Arcee couldn't tell if the wail was out of pain or frustration or both. "Are you _joking_?"

The femme rolled her eyes. She should have known, that this was just another one of Starscream's ploys. He sought his own gain, by any means necessary. This was not a fair trade, but rather a greedy Seeker hoping to take advantage of the desperate Autobots.

"Come on, Ratchet, let's go. We're wasting time here," she decided, deactivating her weapons and promptly turning on her heels. With a grunt, the old medic followed. She heard a panicked squawk behind her.

"Wait! You can't just leave me like this!" Starscream wailed.

Arcee spared him a single glance. "Unless you offer something _useful_ , we have nothing to discuss."

She could practically _see_ the former Decepticon swiping out desperately at any scheme that came to mind, taking whatever his claws sunk into first.

"MECH is building something," Starscream pulled. "Never had I see something so vile, so inconceivable, even _I_ am revolted—"

"They are constructing an artificial Cybertronian," Ratchet finished in a flat tone.

The Seeker's optics went impossibly wide. " _What_? How could you possibly know _that_?"

"We found the remains in their base. Apparently MECH could not salvage anything from their project."

" _Salvage?_ They don't need to salvage anything! They already have another one!"

Both Autobots froze at that, gears locking into place and hydraulic fluid stopped flowing. Arcee thought she heard him wrong. She _wished_ she heard him wrong. MECH had… _another_ abomination? How was that even possible?

She stared at Starscream, trying to find the tiniest flaw that revealed the former Air Commander was lying. Instead, she was greeted with a wide, satisfied sneer, as the leech realized the negotiations had returned to his favor.

The Seeker let out a dark chuckle, and slowly removed his servos from his torso, revealing a nasty, deep wound, energon still flowing from it. "It hurts most right here, doctor…"

Ratchet narrowed his optics, no doubt not inclined to trust the treacherous snake any more than Arcee. However, as a medic, he had made a vow to help any mech that could not help themselves, whether they be Autobot or Decepticon. A vow that not even the hardened war veteran could bring himself to break.

With an inscrutable expression, Ratchet slowly and cautiously neared Starscream. Arcee instantly activated her blasters and lifted them, not aiming them at the injured mech, but kept them in plain view. The Seeker's grin merely widened. He shifted, but instead of attacking the pair, he unfurled with a grunt so that Ratchet could have better access to his wound. In the same location as Bumblebee's only a matter of days before.

Ratchet must have come to the same conclusion, as he asked, "Can you transform?"

It took a while for Starscream to reply, and he didn't look in their direction as he answered, "No."

The medic merely nodded, analyzing the injury with a detached look. He knelt beside his patient and began going through his tools. Starscream had no reason to lie about such a thing. The wretched state of his frame was proof enough. Mud and grime stained the Seeker's once shiny

silver armor, with a variety of scratches and dents. When he shifted, he exposed a wing, revealing scorch marks across the appendage, no doubt leading to his back. Like he took the brunt of an explosion—

Arcee stalled.

 _Wait_.

"Starscream," she spoke up, keeping her voice cold.

"Hmm?"

"How did this happen to you?"

Ratchet was focusing on welding Starscream's plating, but the femme noticed his finials perking up in interest. His patient let out a snarl.

"How do you _think_?" he spat. "Ever since I was cruelly _abandoned_ by my master, I have been scouring this planet for meager scraps of energon. I attempted to take some from MECH, whom seem to have plenty of the stuff, only to be fired upon, and—and _violated_!"

He ended his rant in a spark-broken wail, one that Arcee couldn't tell was genuine or not. It would have certainly worked on anyone that was stupid. However, the femme didn't fall for the act.

"If they were attacking you, then how do you know MECH has Jack? How do you know their plans?"

Ratchet paused and Starscream faltered. The liar recovered quickly, but not quick enough. "I happened to arrive the same time MECH was trying to leash your unhinged pets—"

" _Pets_? You said just Jack."

Starscream's engines sputtered. "Er, well—"

"Arcee," Ratchet spoke up, pulling the welder from the Seeker' sealed wound. "Didn't Miko say something, that MECH wasn't working alone?"

Arcee remembered. "She said they were working with _'Cons_!"

With that snarl, the femme aimed her blasters at the former Decepticon. Starscream let out another high-pitched squawk, pressing his wings against the boulder and raising his talons defensively.

"Wait, wait! I can explain!" he yelped.

"You were there," Arcee growled, narrowing her optics and drawing her lips back in a snarl. "It was you! You took Jack!"

Starscream squawked and flailed like a fish out of water, forcing Ratchet to recoil before he could get smacked in the face. The Seeker rambled in a flurry of words, his voice getting higher and higher with each lie.

"No, no! It's not what you think! They—they _made_ me! Silas threatened he would tear me apart like poor Breakdown if I didn't do what they asked! Wh-when the pet—erm, _boy_ —destroyed their prototype, they blamed me!"

Arcee found her tanks rolling in disgust, her frame shaking with rage. Even Ratchet looked severe, glaring down at the babbling Seeker.

"Where did they take Jack?" the medic demanded.

"I don't _know_! They have bases all over the continent, they could be anywhere by now!"

"The project, where is it?"

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you! _Please_! Have _mercy_!"

Starscream let out a pitiful wail, a high-pitched sound that grated Arcee's audios. She winced slightly, but her aim did not falter. The Seeker was curled in his little ball again, armor clamped down defensively and wings down in submission. The femme thought she saw a tremble in his servos. Wide, bright red optics met her narrowed, cool ones.

This was no longer a proud Air Commander, but rather a fearful, groveling mech-animal.

Arcee growled in disgust. "You're _pathetic_."

With that, she deactivated her blasters. The coward wasn't worth the energon. Instead, she raised her servo to her audio, activating her commlink. The others deserved to hear this, and Starscream didn't deserve to walk free any more.

"Ironhide, I need a groundbri— _aaargh!"_

Arcee broke off with a ragged scream as sharp agony exploded from her side. She instinctively recoiled, bringing a servo to wrap around her middle. Only to feel wet, sticky energon. Leaking from long, deep slashes. Claw marks.

"Arcee— _gah_!"

The femme shot her helm at Ratchet's grunt of pain, only to see Starscream, talons extended, wings up, and lips curled back into a snarl. The ex-Decpeticon was wrestling the medic to the ground, trying to use his superior size to pin the old 'Bot down. However, the war veteran was scrappier, sending a solid punch to the Seeker's helm.

Starscream hissed and reared back, dazed. Ratchet used the opportunity to push back, pouncing on the Decepticon like a cyber-cat. Only the former scientist was no fighter, spending most of his life in laboratories and triages. The ex-military leader easily saw the attack, bracing to catch the bulky Autobot.

Before Arcee could work up a shout, Starscream grabbed hold of Ratchet's helm, _brutality_ slamming his crown into the boulder. There was a sickening crunch of metal, and the medic fell limp, his systems humming as he was forced into stasis.

It all had happened so fast, before the two-wheeler even had a chance to straighten. Her processor was still reeling, still trying to figure out what happened and activated self-regeneration protocols. It took a full klik for her to register Starscream's talons reaching out, snatching up Ratchet's fallen medkit. Before she had a chance to flicker her optics, he stuffed it in his subspace.

"I suppose I should show my gratitude for your _generosity,_ " Starscream sneered. "You Autobots can always be relied upon to have such soft sparks."

Finally Arcee's processor clicked into place. She bared her lips back in a furious snarl. "You tricked us."

"Not really." The flyer said it all too casually as he trotted over Ratchet's fallen frame. "I asked for your medic, and I told you about your pet. Our business is concluded." His sneer widened as Arcee growled deeply. "Now then, I'll be taking my leave…"

The dismissive wave instantly heated the Autobot's systems, and her blades automatically ejected.

"Not without you telling me what you have done to Jack," Arcee snarled.

"Hmm… no." The femme bristled, and the ex-Decepticon did not miss the opportunity. "You pathetic Autobots, always looking out for the weaker creatures. To think such a miserable slug has you all riled up."

Arcee had enough. With a screech, the femme pounced.

Starscream raised his talons in defense, but the Autobot was faster. She leaped high into the air, somersaulting with supreme agility to land a brutal kick to Starscream's helm. The Seeker grunted in pain, stumbling back and arms flailing to catch his balance. Arcee immediately took advantage, landing squarely on her pedes before springing back up into the air.

She latched onto Starscream's back, latching onto gaps of his armor. The former Air Commander squawked and began to flail like he back been touched by an insect, reaching over his shoulders with his talons, but Arcee stayed out of reach. She slashed along his dorsal armor and wings, provoking shrieks as the sensitive metal was shredded by her sharp blades.

"Get off, you wretched pest!"

Arcee seethed as suddenly wicked claws dug into her scruff, drawing energon, and forcefully yanked her off her perch. The world panned as she was thrown over Starscream's helm, slamming onto the ground hard, the stone cracking beneath her. She winced as pain coursed

through her body, but she didn't let herself falter. Rolling over to her all fours, she dug her heels into the earth and launched herself at the Decepticon.

This time Starscream was ready for her, rearing back and shielding his dented helm with his arms. Arcee merely sent a flurry of attacks, kicking, punching, and slicing, but the Decepticon blocked or dodged them all, keeping his guard up. Without a T-cog, his weapons were deactivated, but the Seeker still had his claws and fangs. Something he did not hesitate to use, swiping at Arcee whenever he had the chance, even snapping his jaws when the femme drew too close.

The femme yelped in revulsion and planted a solid kick on his chest, using the momentum to flip away. She stumbled when she landed, vents sputtering and cooling fans on full blast. She placed a servo on the wound on her side, only to find it was wetter than before.

She was leaking energon, badly. The two-wheeler could already feel her energy sapping as her life-source drained from her body. She couldn't keep up with Starscream much longer. Where was Ratchet? Arcee glanced over her shoulder in the direction where the medic lay unconscious. The fight had drawn her away from her comrade, and she could only hope the old 'Bot would hang in there.

A dark chuckle drew her from her thoughts.

"You're tough to scrap," Starscream sneered, circling her in long, dangerous strides. "Tougher to scrap than your _former_ partner."

Arcee stiffened at the statement, feeling like someone had plucked her neural net. It was so unexpected it took a full klik for her to register the words. Her former partner.

Cliffjumper.

No, he was a fighter. No matter how dire the challenge, he would face it head-on. That was how Arcee remembered him. Not… not that _thing_.

"You don't know anything, Starscream," she growled.

This time the Seeker let out a malicious laugh. "Oh? I know Cliffjumper was a so-called, 'fierce' warrior, but he didn't seem that fierce to me when he was brought to me, _groveling_ on his knees. I was doing him a favor, you know, when I tore into his spark.

Her audios did not even pick up the words. No, she heard only scrambled noise. Her processor did not register the statement, refused to translate it. Memories she had locked away for years returned to the forefront of her mind.

Cliffjumper's broken horn, laying on the ground, abandoned. His life signal, appearing on Ratcher's monitor, after days of not detecting a single trace. Only when the Autobots traced it, she found Cliffjumper, covered in dents and scorch marks and scratches and dirt. Only half of his mangled frame remain, laying in a pool of sickly violet energon. She was so caught up, so desperate to save her partner, to stop history from repeating itself, she did not see his lifeless, purple optics until it was too late.

The monster fell, deactivated, lost forever when the mine erupted in flames. A _Decepticon_ mine.

Finally reality returned to her, but it was cold and cruel, hitting her like a solid wall.

"Y-you…" Arcee could think of nothing more, her processor latching onto the blasphemous words, trying to convince her that they were just another lie. But no, her spark twisted, and she _knew._ Her chassis trembled. Then her voice was a savage, unnatural snarl. "It was _you_! You vanquished Cliffjumper!"

Starscream's evil sneer only widened. "Tell me, Arcee, is Jack weak like Cliffjumper? Like _Tailgate_?"

" _I swear upon the AllSpark, it's the truth!"_

" _We shall see…"_

" _No!_ _ **Please**_ _!"_

 _Her desperate cries were ignored. The blade rose, looming in the air. Arcee opened her intake, to tell, to break, to_ give up _. But it was too late._

 _Energon splattered across the wall._

It was then an inferno of fury coursed through her chassis, fueled by vengeful hate. Decepticons. All they did was take and take and take. Crimson lined Arcee's optics, turning her bright lenses a tainted purple.

She charged, holding out her blades in front of her. She sent slash after slash, aiming for gaps of armor and leering optics, but by now Starscream had learned to anticipate her blind attacks. Arcee let out a wheeze as his spiked knee slammed into her middle, so hard it caused her vents to sputter.

The ex-Decepticon took advantage of her immobility to take the offensive, swiping and punching and kicking, filling the air with horrible sounds of metal on metal and fiery showers of sparks. Arcee cried out as he brutally slammed his elbow into her back, forcing her to the ground. Before she could even _think_ about getting up, Starscream sent a powerful kick to her side. The little Autobot went through the air, landing hard on a sloped ravine, tumbling down and down and down.

Yet when she came to a halt, it came far too soon. Arcee groaned as a wave of agony washed over her. Her frame was covered by dents and scratches, her sensitive winglets crushed from the impact. Warning messages appeared over her HUD, alerting her that her energon levels were low. Slowly, painfully, she forced herself to all fours, her body shaking. Only when she did, a thruster planted on her back and shoved her back down. Arcee let out a pained grunt as Starscream cruelly laughed.

"You should have finished me while I was helpless, Arcee," he drawled in a mocking tone, "just like I finished Cliffjumper!"

The Autobot gritted her denta, shutting her optics tight. Cliffjumper, whom she failed to save. Like she failed to save Tailgate. Like she couldn't save Jack. No wonder her human charge hated her.

" _Your pet belongs to me now."_

Maybe she deserved this. It was all her fault. She had pushed Jack away. She remembered how excited he looked when he noticed her watching him. How heartbroken he was when she left him with that cold statement. She thought she was protecting him. No matter how hard she tried, she always put Jack in danger. She thought if she stayed away, _permanently_ , he would be safe.

Megatron seemed to be doing a better job watching over him then she ever could. But she was wrong. Now Jack was in MECH's clutches, and Primus knew what they were doing to him. Because Arcee had failed to protect her partner.

" _You're right, Jack, I am scared. Of losing you!"_

The femme curled her servos into fists, clawing at the earth underneath her. She didn't want to lose Jack. She _couldn't_ lose Jack. He was her only light since Cliffjumper's death. She was _his_ guardian. It was her fault, her responsibility to fix it. For Tailgate. For Cliffjumper.

Arcee tried to push herself up with what was left of her strength, but Starscream shoved her back down.

"Now prepare to reunite with your partners!" he taunted.

Long, deadly talons wrapped around her throat, so tight it drew energon. Arcee whimpered.

"What was that?" The large Decepticon plucked her off the ground with a single servo, so she was forced to look into his terrible optics. "I can't hear your last words."

"This…" Her words were filled with static. "Is…" She forced her vocalizer to reset. "For…" Arcee's optics filled with fury. "CLIFFJUMPER!"

With that shout, the femme ejected her blade and slashed it across Starscream's face. The Seeker howled in agony. He tossed his prisoner away and his talons flew to his face. Arcee took advantage, landing square on her feet only to land a volley of kicks and punches into the arrogant bastard. Blinded, Starscream could only cry out at the onslaught, sparks and energon flying into the air.

With a violent shout, Arcee spun mid-air, bringing both servos together and slamming _hard_ on the top of the ex-Decepticon's helm. This time Starscream was sent head over heels down the ravine, crashing at the bottom with a terrible slam. Arcee did not hesitate, following the Seeker all the way down and pouncing on his chest, bringing her dual blades to his neck.

"Where did MECH take Jack?!" she demanded. "Tell me!"

A mocking chuckle was her reply. Even with his face dented and stained in energon, Starscream's sneer was as twisted as ever.

"What do you think they are doing to him now?" he said in a sick purr. "Do you think they are tearing him apart? Or shredding away what's left of his sanity? Or… do you think it's too late?" The sneer widened to an evil smile. "I wonder… did he beg for you to come save him in his final moments, or did Jack die thinking you abandoned him?"

Arcee's optics turned red.

She brought her blade high into the air, braced to sever Starscream's helm from his shoulders and bring an end to the miserable snake once and for all. It was the least she could do for her partners. Avenge their deaths and bring justice to their names. She would find Jack on her own. He would understand, he would _want_ her to do this.

Jack had suffered enough, he didn't deserve to suffer anymore. Not when war had taken so much from him. Not when he _hated_ war.

Arcee paused at the thought.

Jack, who was compassionate and kind. Jack, who fought tears when he admitted his father's death to her, when she was still mourning Cliffjumper's. Jack, who did cry when he learned soldiers had died for _him_. How would he react, when he found out Arcee had killed just because of him? Murdered a helpless prisoner? He would never forgive her…

The femme left out a heavy sigh, slowly lowering her blade. Angry red optics returned to a cool blue.

"You're not worth it…" Arcee murmured, unable to look down at the pinned Seeker.

"Aww, you don't care about your pet?" Starscream continued to mock. "Don't you want to avenge him?"

"I _care_ about my _partner_. And I will avenge him. But not on _you_. You're just a tool." Starscream blinked at that, as if he wasn't expecting that answer." Besides, I have no need to bring justice. Not when I _know_ Jack is still alive. And I _will_ find him."

"Ha! You don't even know where he is!"

"No." In a flicker of an optic, Arcee brought her blades back to Starscream's throat. "But _you_ do, don't you?"

That sneer faltered. "N-no, I don't…"

"You talked about a project—what is it?"

"That was when you were going to _help_ me! Not try to turn me into scrap!"

"I'm not going to turn you into scrap, Starscream." It was Arcee's turn to smile. "I'll just give you to Megatron."

The Seeker let out an undignified sound. His narrow optics went wide. Every being on Cybertron, either Autobot or Decepticon, feared the warlord's wrath. His second-in-command knew that wrath all too well.

"Y-you can't do that!" Starscream protested, his voice rising an octave. "Megatron will terminate me for treason if I ever return to the _Nemesis_!"

"Then you better start talking." She pressed the blade to the fragile wiring of his neck, emphasizing each word. "What is MECH plotting?"

The former Air Commander's arrogance and mourning attitude had drained away, replaced by quivering wings and bright optics. Finally his fear of Megatron won. "Th-they aren't just planning to build a Cybertronian. Silas wanted some sort of hybrid—"

"That's _impossible_ , a Cybertronian and a human could _never—"_

"It's true! He said that Jack had something to do with it."

" _How?"_

"Do you think I asked for _details_? He only mentioned a base, a facility they set up for their Project er, Chimera."

" _Where?"_

"Err, some city-state. Ebony? Albany? No… um… Al-bane-ee-a? Yes, that was it! Albania!"

"Care to be more specific?" Arcee pressed, moving closer to her captive.

"Erm, north of the capital. In the mountains. I swear, that's all I know!"

The femme only growled at his plea, and Starscream leaned away. Once again, the ex-Decepticon proved he was _useless_. But it wasn't surprising, he didn't know much. Starscream had likely groveled to the likes of MECH merely to feed off their energon supply, than to actually care about their endeavors. Arcee forced a vent. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had yesterday.

And maybe, it was enough to find Jack.

Arcee shut her optics, and forced herself to pull her blades from Starscream's fuel-lines. Oh, it was hard, but facing Jack's distraught look would have been harder. When she onlined them, she was greeted with the lush green trees of the forest beyond. And beady red optics, eying her.

Arcee blinked, with a gasp. What was-

It was then she saw the metal blades that made long wings. Sharp talons, digging into the wooden branches above the quarreling Cybertronian. A curved beak, parted in what almost looked like a sinister smile.

Laserbeak.

" _Scrap_!" she cursed, transforming her blades into blasters, but she was too late.

The surveillance drone flapped his wings, just as she opened fired. Bolts of energon sent smoke, splinters, and charred leaves into the air, but Laserbeak effortlessly weaved between the projectiles and ducked into the forest. Then before Arcee had a chance to think, something _hard_ struck her helm. She let out a wail as she sent to the ground.

"It's been a pleasure, truly, Arcee," Starscream's voice returned, mocking but with a hint of nervousness he failed to mask. No doubt he also noticed the spy. "But _now_ I'll be leaving."

With that, the Seeker spun on his thrusters and sprinted away.

"S-Starscream!" Arcee bellowed after him.

She raised a blaster, sending a volley of shots, but Starscream was _fast_. She had only managed to strike a couple of trees before he vanished from sight. Arcee snarled and rose to all fours. Only to frantically glance back and forth, torn in opposite directions. Should she go after Starscream, or Laserbeak?

Starscream was her only lead to Jack, but if Laserbeak returned to the _Nemesis…_

Arcee bared her denta, realizing she had no choice. She knew she had to do whatever it took to save her charge, but she couldn't let that _monster_ take him from her. Not again. With a growl, the femme transformed, flooring it into the forest. It wasn't long before she heard his desperate cries, calling for his master.

"Laserbeak!" she shouted, rerouting all her energon to her boosters.

He was staying in the canopy, half-flying, half-leaping from perch to perch, trying to stay out of the open. As a master infiltrator, he knew how not to get caught, and how not to get killed. Arcee didn't care. She transformed back to her bipedal mode, skidding to a stop as she raised her blaster. She fired and fired and fired.

Laserbeak let out a distressed squawk, flapping and spinning and dancing through the air. Then a bolt struck a wing. The symbiote let out a pitiful scream.

Then the groundbridge opened.

" _No_!"

Arcee lunged forward, as if she could pluck the drone from the air. But she wasn't fast enough. It was never enough.

With an awkward flap of his wings, Laserbeak pivoted towards the portal. He fell through, disappearing from sight.

And the portal snapped closed.

* * *

 **Sorry if Starscream seems a little OOC in this chapter, but I can only write so much of a whiny character. So I focused more on his manipulative nature and self-preservation, which I think still hits close to home.**

 **If you haven't guessed, next chapters get more exciting. In fact, I have them written. That was until my laptop crashed. Now I have to rewrite them. And see if insurance covers "shattered-computer-after-being-thrown-into-a-wall."**


	16. Terror

Jack didn't know how long he screamed, as loud as his lungs would allow. His throat had long gone raw, turning his wails into ragged screeches. Through the chorus of caterwauls, he _begged._ For anyone to save him. Arcee, Optimus. Raf, Miko. Megatron, Silas. Mom, Dad. But no one ever replied.

He didn't even know if anyone was out there. Were there MECH agents above him, listening to his cries, laughing? Or was he utterly alone? He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't _see._ There was only blackness wherever he looked, so that he couldn't even distinguish his own hand from the darkness.

His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to explode out of his chest. Sweat covered his skin, plastering his greasy raven hair to his brow. The stale air became salty and stifling, making it hard to breathe. Jack tried to regulate his breathing by practicing the exercises his mother had taught him. But he would forget it halfway through or it would never give him enough air. Some part of him knew he was hyperventilating, but he was so far beyond the point of calming down.

The prisoner pounded against the walls of his prison with all his might, turning his bruised knuckles raw and bloody. He had struck his head multiple times, from slamming his forehead above him or crashing the back of his skull beneath him. It only rewarded him a steady throb to add to the agony.

No matter how much he fought, the sides of the shallow grave pressed against him painfully. He felt his body try to compensate the tightness by shrinking, his mind retreating from the forefront of reality, but the living nightmare kept pursuing him.

Jack tried to shove down the flurry of alien emotions, hot and powerful, too complicated to understand. No, no, he couldn't break now. He couldn't break. He gritted his teeth, trying to remember his friends, his family. His friends, who abandoned him. His family, who had forgotten him. Who left him in pain and suffering.

Just like he had been abandoned in the mines.

 _No_.

He couldn't go there.

He was Jack Darby.

He was not _him_.

He was not on Cybertron. He was—Where was he? He only remembered pain. Pain and poison. Brought by the acid whip.

 _A sharp crack filled the air. Pain seared from his back and he let out a groan. He fell to his knees, unable to stay on his shaking pedes. He had not fueled in orns…_

" _I did not tell you to stop!"_

 _Another crack of the whip, and this time he couldn't swallow his sob of agony. Oh, it did not sting. It_ burned _. The corrosive acid ate away at his thin, mangled armor, slicing into his protoform. The guards were careful to avoid fuel-lines, to prevent the acid from getting into the veins and losing a perfectly good worker. However, some were more zealous than others._

" _D-16, you will keep moving!"_

 _Another sickening sound, followed by searing pain, and he felt wetness trail down his back. The other miners did not look in his direction. They either kept their gaze on their task or used the guard's distraction to hide their spoils. There were no friends here. Only slaves._

 _He_ hated _this place. He hated the masters. He hated the miners. But he hated the darkness most of all._

 _One day, he would leave this place, and gain his freedom. One day, he would see the sun, step into the light. One day, he would_ _ **destroy them all**_ _._

Blue eyes turned violet.

* * *

Silas leaned against the wall of the room, arms crossed over his chest and eying the metal door on the floor, bored. Dr. DiBiase paced beside him, a tablet clutched tightly in his hands. His calculating eyes never left the screen in his hands, most likely monitoring his patient's health. The device occasionally gave off a spot beep whenever the physician tweaked something. But other than that, the gloomy room was deafeningly silent.

At least the brat stopped screaming. Not surprisingly, Jack screeched like a banshee once they locked the latch, leaving him trapped in the confining prison. If only Silas had thought of it sooner. It would have saved him a lot of time.

"How are things looking, doc?" the MECH leader asked.

"Increased heart rate, elevated blood pressure," DiBiase replied in an analytical, distressed tone. "He's _terrified_.

"Good."

The doctor paced only three more steps before declaring, "We need to get him out of there. If his levels get any higher, his health will be at risk."

"Then we'll take him out when that happens."

There was a weird noise from DiBiase. "Sir, his body is still weak and recovering from trauma. Even with the… _drug_ , he is no condition to experience any more stress."

"If I remember, correctly, doctor," Silas spoke up, a hint of a dangerous tone in his voice, " _you_ were the one that suggested this approach."

The stubborn surgeon ignored the warning tone, instead continuing on with an aggressive step forward, "That was because Marcus was tearing Jack apart just to sate his sick, sadistic vices. No matter how many times I may have treated him, Jack's body would just have gotten weaker and weaker until it shut down altogether. He would have been _dead_!"

Silas was silent, letting the other man rant, and he let it linger a moment. He asked curtly, "And now that he's all patched up, are you certain he will live?"

DiBiase took a moment to respond. "…Yes."

"Then we'll continue the treatment."

The MECH leader sent a sideways glare at the physician, telling his word was final. However, DiBiase was not done yet, opening his mouth to continue the argument.

Only for the monitor to let out a shrill scream.

While Silas's eyes narrowed in confusion, the doctor's gaze went impossibly wide. He fumbled to regain his hold on the tablet, only for his skin to blanch when he looked at the screen.

"Oh, my God…"

"What is it?" the ex-SEAL demanded, straightening to his full height.

DiBiase merely shook his head in disbelief, fingers already tapping away at the tablet as if he was trying to reset the screen. "It… it just stopped." Before Silas could ask what "it" was, he raised his voice to a yell, "Jack's heart just stopped!"

Instead of empathizing with the physician's panic, the extremist merely scoffed. "It's broken. Check again."

"Silas—"

"A few hours in the dark wouldn't give a seventeen-year-old a heart attack. And you just told me everything was treated. He's _fine_."

"Our entire operation depends on the results of this experiment," DiBiase hissed out lowly, gesturing the closed pit. "The fate of MECH— _entire_ world—is depending on this child." When Silas just stared, he shook his head and spat out, "And goddamnit, I will not let my godson die! Even if it's a malfunction, is it really a risk you are willing to take?"

The terrorist leader frowned. He knew logically that it was physically impossible, that it was most likely the device glitching out. He wouldn't be surprised if Jack somehow found a way to sabotage it, knowing all too well how crafty the clever little brat could be. However, they were still observing the full effects of the dark energon. Could this be a delayed reaction? Why now?

Silas muttered a curse. It was just proof Jack would never stop being a pain in his ass. Even at his mercy, the child was becoming more and more trouble for the MECH leader. Even when beaten and broken and brought from the brink of death, Silas had seen that defiant look in his eyes in the medical bay. Maybe this was no different. If Jack could not defy his captor in life, he would do so in death.

The thought made Silas snarl. He would be damned to let the brat win.

With that, the extremist leader let out a bark. As always, his summons was immediately answered as the door swung open. Marcus and two agents strolled in, looking around with sadistic curiosity. Silas snapped his fingers and gestured to the prison.

"Get him out," he ordered curtly.

Marcus cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head, but he did not dare question his leader. Especially as the man glared at him with narrowed eyes. The metal covering was too heavy to for a single person to lift, so the two guards settled on either side of it as Marcus kneeled and unlatched the lock. He tossed the padlock aside and there was a long, drawn-out squeal as the cover was lifted.

It wasn't even fully opened until there was a blur of movement and Marcus let out a strangled grunt. The man was thrown to the floor, Jack Darby on top of him, violet eyes glowing brilliantly.

 _Finally_.

Silas sneered, ignoring DiBiase's curse of shock beside him. Instead, he watched as the brat's hands wrapped around Marcus's throat, squeezing hard. The interrogator seized the boy's wrists, trying to pry him off, but Jack's grip did not relent. That was until one of the other agents moved over, slamming the heel of his boot into the teenager's temple.

The brat was sent to the ground with a vicious gasp, dazed. The second agent took advantage, landing a solid kick to Jack's ribs. He did not let up, falling to a knee and seizing the downed prisoner's shoulder, raised his fist high to bring it down on the teen's head. Only for Jack to catch it in his palm.

Before the man could work up a gasp, the brat twisted his arm, the _wrong way_. The soldier seethed as Jack straightened. Then the brat sent a _powerful_ punch to the agent's temple, with such force his head was sent to the side. Silas swore he heard a _crack_ of a breaking bone, but he didn't know if it came from his follower's skull or Jack's hand.

The agent that first attacked the brat lunged, tackling into his back. The teen let out a savage growl when the momentum sent him forward, but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. The MECH soldier acted quickly, wrapping his arm around Jack's neck in a chokehold. The brat let out a strangled sound, hands flying to his captor's limb.

Just when Silas thought the deranged child was restrained, Jack suddenly lunged forward—the agent still attached to his back. The man wheezed as he was sent to the floor, but the teen wasn't done yet. He snatched the soldier's arm and twisted, practically _throwing_ the nearly two hundred pound man through the air. He slammed into the concrete wall, hard. He groaned as he slid to the ground, limp.

Jack was back on his feet in an instant, violent eyes snapping back and forth, hungry for his next prey. Silas cautiously stepped away, out of his sight, instead letting his subordinate near the boy. Jack turned, only to be greeted with the blade of Marcus's knife. He leaned back with impossible reflexes, but he wasn't fast enough.

The brat yelped as the tip sliced into his cheek, leaving behind a crimson line. Instead of reeling back in pain, the lips pulled back in a savage snarl and his tainted eyes gleamed with fury. Marcus slashed again, only for Jack to seize his wrist. Instead of twisting the arm, he raised his heel, sending it into the side of the torturer's knee.

It caved inward and there was a loud _pop_ of a snapped tendon. Marcus howled when his rendered useless leg crumbled beneath him. As he fell to his knees, Jack wrenched the knife from his hold. He moved behind his opponent, twisting his arm more and more until there another distinct _pop_ from his shoulder. Just as the brat buried the blade into Marcus's shoulder. A blood-curdling scream filled the room, and Silas eyed DiBiase reeling back, eyes wide in horror.

There was a wet _squelch_ as the knife was ripped back out, cloaked in blood. Then in a movement too fast for Silas to follow, Jack wrenched Marcus's head back, exposing his throat. There was a shout from DiBiase, likely at Jack, but it was too late.

The blade was slashed across the torturer's throat, and there the sickening sound of splattering blood.

Then there was a heavy thud as Marcus's body fell to ground. Silas watched his prisoner with a narrowed gaze, keeping an inscrutable expression, as Jack straightened, his gaze dark and deadly. Then he smiled.

Oh, it wasn't one of his humorous grins or a taunting quirk of the lips. It was _sinister,_ that would have made any other man run. Judging by DiBiase's flinch, the doctor was about to. But Silas held his ground, watching as Jack's gaze fell to the floor. Noticing the unmoving corpse and the red pool underneath him.

Then suddenly that monstrous gaze turned into a look of horror.

"No…" A strange shudder coursed through Jack. " _No_!"

Suddenly the teen reared back, clutching his head. Silas blinked, baffled, as the brat folded in on himself. Jack blinked several times, revealing one blue and the other sickly purple. He was muttering to himself, but too low for the extremist to hear. Then without warning, Jack snapped his head back and let out a blood-curdling scream. Then just like that, the boy's mismatched eyes slid close and he crumpled to his knees. He slumped onto his side, falling into the pool of blood with a wet thud, unconscious.

For a solid minute, both men just stared, unable to comprehend what they just saw. In a matter of seconds, before either man could react, three of Silas's top soldiers lay across the ground—two unconscious, one dead. Bested by a seventeen-year-old boy.

Silas's heart quickened. Incredible. So this was the power of dark energon.

The power to crush anyone or any government standing in MECH's way. The power to rule the Earth. And Silas had it all to himself. It _would_ be his.

Slowly, cautiously, he neared the unmoving brat on the ground, but Jack did not stir at his approach. As he knelt next to the prisoner, he placed his fingers on the boy's neck. Only to a feel a strong, healthy heartbeat.

"You still think it's an adrenaline rush, doctor?" Silas drawled as he straightened.

DiBiase's mouth was agape and his eyes were impossibly wide, looking like a deer in headlights with a hunter's rifle trained on him. He opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water, before finally he spoke in a shaky, quiet voice.

"I-Impossible," he gasped. "J-Jack… Jack couldn't possibly be capable of…"

"Taking out three fully-grown, well-trained men with a flick of his wrist?"

"B-but he was— The monitor read— It couldn't possibly be a malfunction, I-I designed it myself."

"And there's no medical explanation?"

DiBiase shook his head. "It defies all medical phenomenon—all _science_. And there's no anomaly except—"

"The dark energon," Silas finished, stepping towards the man and fixing him with a look. "Can you determine how it's affecting him?"

It took a moment for the surgeon to find the words to speak, gesturing to his tablet, his knuckles bone white around it. "I'll... h-have to look over the data. But, if it's the dark energon, then it's a chemical enhancement."

"Meaning?"

"Most drugs affect the human body by manipulating neurotransmitters in the brain. It causes a chain reaction throughout the person, especially if it effects hormones. If... the dark energon is doing the same, it could explain Jack's… physical alteration." A look of confusion passed over DiBiase's face. "But I don't understand how it could have possibly stopped his—"

"Irrelevant."

Silas digested the information he had learned. His theory had been correct—significant stress triggered the dark energon in Jack's body, and the effects were instantaneous. Sheer, unbridled aggression. It would have created the perfect supersoldier, but not if the requirements to control it were too specific to apply in real combat.

The experiment itself was already taking too long. It took over a week of constant pressure until Jack broke. They had gained invaluable research, true, but not enough. And at this rate, Darby's body would be destroyed before MECH could gain anything useful. Silas needed to learn how to manipulate the dark energon, how to modify it.

And there was only one way to do that.

"You say its altering his body," Silas mused, "Can you determine how, exactly?"

DiBiase shook his head. "We already did scans from the previous time he was in our custody—nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The only way to see how it's affecting his brain is by scanning it during one of his… episodes. But, obviously, that would be nearly impossible. Unless…"

Silas cocked an eyebrow, encouraging the man could go on.

"...Surgery could allow us to see how it's _physically_ altering his body. I could observe his nervous system—"

"Do it."

DiBiase blinked. "Sir?"

"The surgery, do it. Whatever you have to do. I want to know _everything_."

Although Silas was deadly serious, DiBiase's look of horror widened. "B-but, sir, in order to do that, I would have to perform a biopsy. I would have to _remove_ his brain— He would— Jack would die!"

"Are you confident the experiment has yielded all we can learn?" Silas pressed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"W-well, I suppose—"

"Then _do it_." The MECH leader filled his voice with iron authority, leaving no room for argument. "I will not waste any more time and resources if there's nothing else to learn. If Jack can no longer contribute to MECH as he is, he will do so in death."

DiBiase blanched, staring at Silas as if he was the one that ripped three soldiers apart. He fumbled for words again, letting a string of babbling noises that the extremist had no patience listening to.

"B-but you said we couldn't afford to lose—"

"Are you questioning me?" Silas demanded, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

For a moment, it looked like the physician would really continue the argument, cold eyes blazing and mouth open for the next word, hands even raised in exasperation. But hearing his leader's deadly tone and piercing glare, DiBiase swallowed and slowly lowered his hands to his sides. He slumped and avoided the ex-SEAL's gaze.

"No, sir."

"Then you have your orders."

With that, Silas stormed out the door, leaving the bloody room behind.

* * *

Megatron was in an irritated mood. He wholly blamed it on Jack.

The Decepticon lord paced back and forth in his personal chambers, claws clenched by his sides and fangs bared. He knew it wouldn't be long before rumors spread across the ship like wildfire, the troops trying to find an explanation for their leader's odd behavior. But he rather have the crew gossip about his disappearance, than notice his episodes of weakness.

Rather, _Jack's_ weakness. The boy was suffering, that much Megatron could tell. Alien emotions—fear, sorrow, shame, humiliation, desperation—would invade his processor in waves, scrambling data and thoughts. His spark would twist and ache. Yet the silver titan had to reel his field in tight, keeping an inscrutable mask. However, the pain that would filter through was much harder to contain.

At times it would be a simple ache in his struts that Megaton could ignore. Other times, it was like a hellish inferno was coursing through his neural net. Some of the onslaughts were so violent, a wave of sensations attacking him so suddenly, that his battle protocols would activate. But as there was no wound, no opponent, he settled for terminating whatever was in his sights.

He had already left a trail of sizeable dents throughout the _Nemesis_ , and thoroughly destroyed a workstation. Once an Eradicon came too close, only for Megatron to whirl around and cleave its helm from its shoulders. The drones stayed a safe distance away after that.

Whenever Megatron dared to push back against the blood-bond, sending his stronger will to Jack, the ungrateful child would simply smack it away. It infuriated the warlord. Not only did he managed to get himself captured, but he wasn't even bothering to do anything about it. And the fleshling had no qualms sharing _every_ sensation. Megatron had no regret spitefully sealing the bond, shoving all of Jack's misery to the back of his mind so that it was a simple buzz in his processor. If the pet wanted to suffer alone, then so be it.

If only the silence lasted.

Megatron let out a roar as he threw a mighty punch into the nearest wall. There was a horrible sound of metal on metal, the black wall caving in to leave behind a deep depression. The titan did not care, instead focused on the sharp sensation piercing his spark. Then it spread across his neural net frigid fire, chilling his frame and stalling systems.

How? What was happening—

Then the Decepticon recognized it. It was a sensation he had not felt in thousands and thousands of cycles, since his ancient days as a weak, defenseless slave bound by cruel masters and a crueler system. He had forgotten about it, until it became a foreign thing he had no concept of knowing. He had come close to understanding it, but he turned away each time before it could taint him. It took him time to remember it.

 _Fear_.

Jack's fear.

It was so powerful it had knocked down the defensive wall Megatron had built up, and now pouring through the bond and flooding his processor. His body shuddered without his permission, and he had to stop himself from going into a frenzy. Warning messages flashed across his HUD, of an increased spark-pulse and battle protocols being activated and overheating systems.

It took several long, agonizing kliks until Megatron was able to activate his vocalizer. He let out another roar—this one savage, blood-curdling, destructive.

He pushed back against the onslaught of terror, replying with his own assault of fury, hatred, and bloodthirstiness. Megatron ignored the flare of raw emotion, focusing on collecting useless data and old files. He built them up over the blood-bond, locking it shut. A wail from Jack, only to be silenced. Along with the emotions and the pain and the accursed fear.

It still took several breems for the dictator to reboot horribly confused systems and deactivate cooling fans and weapons protocols. With a grunt, Megatron straightened himself, frowning at the dent in the wall, yet another one left behind. He snarled. Enough of this.

The Decepticon leader stormed out of his quarters, stomping through the corridors of the _Nemesis_. Any passing Vehicons hastily bowed and avoided meeting his optics, careful to keep a wide berth from their agitated leader. That was fine with Megatron.

As always, the communication center was alive with activity. Screens covered almost the entirety of the walls, either filled with Cybertronian script or live feeds from countless cameras. Some showed the halls of the _Nemesis_ , some showed orbital views of Earth, some showed humans and there were even a couple observing their military bases. Consoles filled the room, each station occupied by a focused drone, some not even glancing up at their master's arrival. Although Soundwave preferred solitude, one mech could only do so much.

The surveillance chief stood in the center of it all, leaning over a terminal that formed a semi-ring around him. Soundwave's fingers flew across the keys and his data-cables were connected to the console, flashing as they routed data faster than any Cybertronian ever could. As Megatron moved closer, he found the other former gladiator's frame was much leaner than usual. It seemed all of his symbiotes had been deployed.

Soundwave did not recognize his lord until Megatron paused beside him, careful not invade his station, but stood close enough to have his presence known.

" _I grow impatient, Soundwave,"_ the tyrant growled. " _Surely it is not that hard to find_ _ **insects**_ _?"_

Of course, Megatron did not expect an answer. When Soundwave protested his slavery to the High Council, only to be denied freedom, the humiliated and betrayed Champion of Polyhex vowed to never depend on speeches to solve his problems. He would let his actions speak louder than words.

Soundwave kept his vow of silence, letting the screens answer for him. He brought many pictures and images of files, written in English. Reports, Megatron realized, on MECH's activities. Specifically, one human called "Leland Bishop." Or rather, _Silas._ So that was the one that took his Jack.

The reports told many things about him, mostly facts Megatron had no interest in. However, he noticed each report took place in a different country and were usually far apart. Some were vaguer than others. It seems Silas did not like to stay in one place for long and managed to move without his pursuers' knowledge.

" _Hmm… so they know how to avoid detection,"_ Megatron concluded.

Soundwave nodded.

" _Then it seems we cannot depend on the humans' system of surveillance."_

Another nod. Disappointing.

Although primitive, when the humans' monitoring system was combined, it was powerful. Thousands and thousands of cameras, from all different angles, even from the planet's orbit. Not to mention the fleshlings were always communicating with each other, chattering away like they weren't speaking on an unsecure line. Soundwave especially enjoyed going through the limitless amount of knowledge, gathering as much intel of their enemies—both Autobots and humans—as possible. Or at the very least, taking notes for later reference.

Megatron snarled. And now even that proved useless. Soundwave had found _nothing_ , and he found _everything_. But the warlord _refused_ to let the search die here. He would burn this entire planet, if that is what it took take back his pet.

The Decepticon's bloodthirsty thoughts were interrupted by a ping from Soundwave. He glanced at his third-in-command to find his visor filled with schematics. Then suddenly a small groundbridge appeared before them. A tiny figure darted out, letting out a triumphant squawk.

Megatron flickered his optics and tilted his helm, watching as Laserbeak flapped around the room. One of his wings moved awkwardly, likely damaged, but that did little to quell his zeal. The symbiote chirped excitedly, fluttering over their helms. Naturally the pair of Decepticons were curious. The only time Lazerback acted like this was when he found information that could give them an advantage over the Autobots.

Soundwave promptly detached from the terminal and straightened, baring his chest. With a final chirp, Laserbeak swooped down, angling towards his master. He spread his wings before impact, slowing his descent, and transformed before Megatron's optics. The symbiote attached to the spymaster and glyphs scrolled across Soundwave's visor as the flyer downloaded surveillance data.

"Well, what is it?" Megatron asked impatiently.

Then suddenly the communications officer stiffened, straightening and immediately turning back to the console. He connected his data-cables to the terminal once again, and the screen before them came to life. Only for Megatron to let out a growl.

It was an image of _Starscream_ , pathetically sprawled across a boulder, leaking energon all over himself. The Seeker was venting heavily, obviously in pain, and oblivious to the spy watching him. The video was lined by shadow and leaves, telling Laserbeak had recorded it from the safety of a tree. So the traitor lived.

The scheming snake that had ripped the shard of dark energon from Megatron's spark, in a failed attempt to terminate him, and then used the power of Unicron for himself. When the Decepticon lord discovered the second-in-command was hoarding energon for himself, he took it to execute the traitor. Instead, Starscream tried to destroy him, and when he couldn't, he fled like a coward.

Megatron had cared little for his fate, but he ordered Soundwave to keep an optic out for him. He hardly saw how it was irrelevant now. He opened his intake to say as such, only to freeze when a groundbridge opened, and two Autobots stepped out, Ratchet and Arcee. Optimus's lap dog and medic, and his little femme and Jack's so-called guardian.

The Decepticon was filled with fury that his former Air Commander _begged_ for the _Autobots'_ help, but then again, it was not surprising. However, Arcee's words were.

 _/"Where is Jack?_

 _"Patch me up and perhaps I'll tell you."_ /

Megatron bared his fangs. Starscream _knew_ where his pet was? How? Sure enough, he found his answer as Starscream continued to dig himself into a deeper and deeper hole. So, it was thief that stole his pet. The bubbling rage quelled to amusement as Arcee launched herself at the ex-Decepticon with a screech.

Did the femme _actually_ think Jack was still hers? Little did she know she was doing Megatron a favor, by ripping Starscream apart. It was entertaining to watch Starscream squirm. Laserbeak hastily moving perch to perch, trying to keep the quarreling Cybertronians in sight yet careful to remain hidden. The video only proved that Autobots were no good at controlling their fury, unlike a hateful Decpeticon. Yet Starscream proved he was just as pathetic, as he was eventually pinned by the femme that was not even half his size.

/" _Where?"_

 _"Err, some city-state. Ebony? Albany? No… um… Al-bane-ee-a? Yes, that was it! Albania!"_

 _"Care to be more specific?"_

 _"Erm, north of the capital. In the mountains. I swear, that's all I know!_ "/

A wide, satisfied smile spread across Megatron's lips, his fangs glinting in the faint light of the room. The feed ended when Arcee discovered their uninvited guest, her optics wide with shock and fury. He would have to thank her, later.

For now he had everything he needed to find his Jack.


	17. Wrath of a Warlord

**And now the chapter you've all been waiting for. ;D**

* * *

Megatron stepped onto the flight deck of the _Nemesis_ , venting salty, alien air. The obsidian metal was covered in scratch marks of repeated abuse from landing and launching flyers, but it was hardly noticeable in the faint moonlight. The barren rock radiated only a sliver of light—a crescent, he believed the humans called it. Good. As human eyes were useless in the dark, it meant his enemies would not see his approach.

The Decepticon leader would not take a groundbridge today. The technology was only useful if one had precise coordinates—coordinates he did not have. Though taking to the air was slower, it would be a more effective approach to search such a large area. Soundwave insisted to summon the troops, or even his symbiotes, but Megatron refused. He would not allow another to claim his pet first.

Not when Jack was his to take.

Megatron transformed into a wicked Cybertronian jet, taking to the night skies. He stayed high in the atmosphere and he kept his thrusters silent, so no human or scanner could detect him. It made the journey slower than he would have liked, but allowed him to observe the land below.

The earth rose and fell to form the steep slopes and rocky cliffs of mountains, wide valleys stretching between them. The landscape was covered in a lush green of summer, interrupted by white boulders and great lakes. There were fewer humans here. There would be a cluster of lights, nestled in a mountain basin. Megatron would near it, only to discover it was a human settlement, and move on.

White noise constantly filled his audios as he combed through the human frequencies. Many of them were useless, chattering in a language he didn't understand or playing blaring, annoying sounds. The night wore on, and Megatron's frustration grew.

Only Starscream would give a false lead. He perhaps didn't know MECH's plans at all, and spoke of the first human country that came to mind all in an effort to save his miserable hide. Megatron had no way of knowing that Jack was truly in these mountains. He would continue to be tormented by the human's fear, which only seemed to grow stronger—

It was then Megatron had a solution.

Slowly, carefully, he began to peel back the seal over the blood-bond, layer by layer. Jack's frantic thoughts came through, striking the Decepticon's processor, but not as violently as before. While protocols demanded to expel the foreign signature, Megatron reached out, sinking his claws into Jack's consciousness. The boy whimpered, but did not resist.

The dark energon in the warlord's spark pulsed.

The jet banked, turning into a wide arc across the sky. The pulse became stronger. He began his descent, sinking below the clouds. He opened the blood-bond further, and he began to feel a pull in his chest, like a compass. He followed it.

He rounded a tall mountain, finding a cluster of structures hidden within its shadow. While the other human settlements were alive with light and noise, this one was dark and quiet. Except for the chatter that filled Megatron's comms, and the dark energon that burned brightly within his chassis.

The Decepticon activated his afterburners, having his roar of fury echo across the entire mountain range. Suddenly his comms came to life with course, clipped English.

" _Bogie incoming!"_

" _Air Force?"_

" _Negative!"_

" _What the fuck is that?"_

Megatron transformed.

He landed on the concrete ground, and the very earth _quaked_. Great, deep cracks spread underneath his pedes. The mountains rumbled, the buildings rattled, and the humans fell to their knees.

Sharp, silver rippled, rising and shifting. Talons flashed and fangs glinted dangerously in the faint, fluorescent light. Hot ventilations turned into steam in the cold air, sounding like a monstrous growl. Crimson optics, filled with hate and fury and power no human could ever fathom, burned in the darkness.

Megatron raised his helm high, letting out a savage, blood-curdling, unnatural roar.

The humans of MECH could only cower at the thunderous bellow, at the devil that had come to reap their souls.

" _ **I am Megatron!"**_

* * *

DiBiase was torn. The man was so used to being so sure. As a head surgeon of a hospital, he had to be. He had to be the one to make the decision, how to save a person's life, to tell their family. He had learned to deal with the consequences of his actions, building a suit of armor over himself to separate himself from reality.

But now, DiBiase did not know what to choose. Terminate the subject, or save Jack, his godson?

Silas was his leader. He had given the physician a sense of purpose in his life. Although he could not fight for the cause, he could aid MECH in his own way, returning the determined freedom fighters to health and advancing their medical technology. He was free to do what he wished, to progress his research however he saw fit, with whatever resources he required. Something that the rigid and confining procedures of a hospital could never provide.

DiBiase owed Silas his loyalty, and more importantly, the MECH leader had given him an order. The doctor had seen first-hand what happened to those that dared to defy the man. However, it was something he never wanted to see again, never mind being subjected to.

Then there was his promise to June. The only woman he ever loved. She had left him alone, would not speak to him for _years_ , yet she did not forget him. She had asked _him_ to protect her son, should anything happen to her.

DiBiase had considered it an honor, especially if it meant making her happy. But he didn't realize that the role of a godfather was a mockery. It was simply a reminder of what he could never be. He could uphold his vow, care and provide and protect Jack, but he would always be among the edge of the boy's life.

The doctor glanced down at the form before him. Jack lay across the hospital bed, unmoving and sedated. There was no heart monitor or IV set up—DiBiase did not need it. Instead, there was a tray of sharp, deadly tools beside the bed, each one glinting dangerously in the bright light. Eager to dig into Jack's flesh.

It was frightening how much he looked like his mother. That dark, lustrous hair and those icy-blue, intelligent eyes. It made it easy to see Jack that way, that he was June's son. He was _only_ June's son. But then Jack had inherited his father's irresponsibility and roguish attitude.

Then it was easy to remember that June had _left_ him for a brute, and Jack was that brute's son. That June had mocked him by calling him the boy's guardian, merely reminding him what he could never be.

DiBiase loved Jack, and _hated_ him.

The man swallowed and plucked up a vial from the tray. Within was a clear, pure liquid. It looked so harmless, innocent. It only took a few drops to kill a seventeen-year-old boy.

It would be quick, painless. Far more merciful than what Silas would have done to him. Yes, that was what he was doing. He was saving his godson from suffering any more pain. _Protecting_ him.

June would be upset with him, but DiBiase could explain himself, make her understand. That he didn't have a choice. And maybe… maybe it could give them a chance to start over. To live the life they could have had.

DiBiase was filled with resolution, but the surgeon's hands trembled as he filled the syringe. It took a moment to find Jack's vein, and slide the shaking needle under his skin.

"I-I'm sorry, Jack," he whispered in a quivering voice, pressing against the plunger.

He watched as the euthanasia disappeared, into the boy's flesh—

The world trembled.

DiBiase stumbled, catching himself on a tray as the room rattled. The assistants filling the room gasped as the lights flickered, momentarily cloaking them in darkness.

"The hell was that?" the doctor demanded.

He was answered with an alien, enraged roar.

* * *

A hailstorm of sharp projectiles dug into the seams of Megatron's armor. Plating clamped down defensively and he raised his arms to shield his fragile optics. These humans had effective weapons, to be able to dig into the thick hide of a Cybertronian. They had already formed a wall between him and the structures of their makeshift base, cowering in the shadows of their bulky vehicles. But it would take more than their _bullets_ to defeat the Champion of Kaon.

Megatron unsheathed his sword. He lunged forward, slicing the blade across the ground, sending dirt and humans into the air with. Bullets struck his dorsal armor, and the ex-gladiator spun on his heels to face the vermin that had rounded on him. He dragged his blade through the earth once again, ripping concrete, metal, and flesh apart.

Screams filled the air, and Megatron grinned.

Engines roared to life. Small, primitive vehicles began to scurry around his pedes like insects, their occupants hidden within the shells as they continued to fire upon him. As such a pathetic tactic would protect them. In a movement too fast to follow, the Decepticon twisted and sent his sword into one of the automobiles, cleaving it in half. Its momentum sent the pieces skidding across the ground, the humans sent tumbling out with wails.

When another came too close, Megatron slammed his pede, flattening the vehicle beneath it with a sickening _crunch_. The titan casually kicked it away, sending it flipping through the air in a wide arc. It crashed into another car, sending them both rolling in a fiery inferno.

By now the humans had learned to keep their distance, reversing their vehicles and backpedaling on their feet until they were out of range of the warlord's long sword. They continued to fire their little weapons at him, even as they watched their suppressive fire bounce off his armor harmlessly. The noisy things were so loud it grated Megatron's audios, drowning out a deadly whistle.

The Decepticon warlord bellowed as a missile struck the stabilizers of his pede, engulfing silver armor. A groan came from his leg as it shook violently, before crumpling beneath him. He fell with a heavy thud, catching himself with a single servo. Optics raging, he scanned the swarm of fleshlings, trying to locate the source of the attack.

He was greeted with a crouching human with a large barrel of a cannon hoisted on its shoulder. Megatron squinted his eyes at the sight, until suddenly the oversized weapon fired and a fiery missile sped forward with a trail of smoke. Only for the titan to catch it in his servo.

The projectile exploded into a ball of flame and smoke. The heat fried sensitive wires, but the thick metal of his palm took the brunt of the impact. The clap of thunder was replaced by a sinister hum as Megatron's fusion cannon charged.

He took aim and fired, the insect and the pitiful little weapon vaporized in an eruption of scorching heat. The shockwave of the explosion knocked the nearby human's off their feet with pained yells. Some did not get back up. Megatron pivoted his weapon back and forth, firing one bolt of energon after another, destroying vehicles and fleshlings alike.

Some of the humans were wise enough to retreat, dropping their weapons in shaking terror and twisting on their heels. A few slipped into the shadows of the forest, others he noticed vanished into the surrounding buildings. If this was their base…

The Decepticon scanned the closest structure, only to find it cold and empty. Devoid of his Jack. With a frustrated howl, he raised his fusion cannon and the warehouse was consumed in flames. Glass shattered with a terrible noise as windows were blown out and the building groaned as it the roof caved in.

Megatron scanning the next. The structure was leveled in seconds, and more humans fled. The warlord snarled. Where was Jack?! He knew the dark energon in his _spark_ that his pet was here. And judging by the army that greeted him, they were expecting a battle. Fine, then. He would just raze their facility until he got what he wanted.

And Megatron _always_ got what he desired.

Suddenly an odd noise caught his audios. It sounded like a blade, cutting through the air at a rapid speed.

 _Thump-thump-thump._

Suddenly white, alien light appeared from above. Megatron glanced up, only to be greeted with an odd, bulky flyer hovering thin, spinning wings. And it was _noisy_. With a snarl, the ex-gladiator lifted his arm to destroy it as easily as he did the rest. Only when he did, pain shot through his neural net from his arm.

Megatron roared and flailed, looking down to see a long, sharp _hook_ had gone through his wrist, cutting through plating and protoform and severing wires and fuel-lines. Attached to it was a black, metal line, and when he followed it, the Decepticon narrowed his burning optics at a _second_ helicopter.

Baring his fangs in annoyance more than anything else, he reached up with his free servo to wrench the wretched thing out. Only for another spike of pain to erupt from his upper arm, and his limb was ruthlessly tugged back. Another flyer, pulling high and back as if in attempt to restrain the building-sized Cybertronian.

Megatron bared his fangs. He would not be so easily _restrained._ In a flicker of an optic, the former Champion twisted his right arm, having the chain that held him wrap around his cannon. He used the leverage to take hold of it and _pulled_.

He felt resistance quiver through the line as the helicopter pulled back, desperately trying to stay aloft. However, no human engine could match the might of a Cybertronian. Eventually gravity took a firm hold on the ugly thing, dragging it down and down. The whirling blade caught the lip of a nearby roof, sending metal and sparks in all direction with a terrible noise.

Stripped of its wings, the beast fell to the ground, skidding across the ground in a fiery combustion. Megatron turned his attention to the second helicopter, still attached to his arm. He easily ripped the hook free, sending energon leaking out, but he was more than able to bear the pain. Whatever pain he managed to feel, the raging warlord used it to fuel his rage and his hatred. He twisted to look up at the noisy contraption, his armor bristling to make him look twice his size.

The helicopter had the sense to fly back and higher, maneuvering out of the titan's reach—so _pathetic_. Megatron leaped forward, gathering momentum to launch himself in the air. His sword sliced through the human flyer's tail.

He landed in a low crouch with a terrible thud, ignoring the crippled contraption as it fell to the Earth in a flat spin. Megatron calmly began to rise, turning to continue his hunt. He was growing tired of this—these humans were no challenge to the Lord of the Decepticons.

A strange, eerie, high-pitched noise filled Megatron's audios.

The ex-gladiator twisted to face the threat, only to be greeted by a brilliant, electric light. The titan bellowed as white-hot pain coursed through his body, scorching his neural net with fire. The warning messages filling his vision were splintered and his audios were filled with static. Megatron was faintly aware of a loud, terrible groan as his stabilizers failed and he fell to the ground.

He barely managed to catch himself on his servos, fangs bared as he struggled to recalibrate his disoriented processor. There must have been per of his mind still functioning, as the Cybertronian identified the assailant as an EMP cannon. Not powerful enough to deactivate him, but certainly effective to ruin his internal circuitry.

"The thing's down! Kill it!"

Pricks of pain littered his entire body, along with jarring impacts of scorching heat. Warning tolls joined the white noise in Megatron's audios. He willed his body to move, to continue the fight, to defend his title of Champion. But gears refused to turn, pistons did not move, his weapons did not activate.

The Decepticon leader's body was unmoving— _frozen_. Just like so long ago, when the _Harbinger_ fell to this accused world. Damaged and leaking and unable to fight the unbearable, frigid climate, the mighty Champion was locked in stasis. He could not move, as the icy prison closed around him. He could not move, as the humans tore him apart. He could not move, just like Jack.

Megatron could feel him, through the echoes of their blood-bond. He was muted and faint, distant. He could still feel the tremors of his terror and his muffled agony. Mixing with the tyrant's own. Mixing with his hatred.

The Decepticon's emotions bled into his field, filled it with hot, crackling energy. He pulled his in tight, even as excess charge from the attack jumped across his frame. The result was a suffocating cocoon, but Megatron ignored it. He ignored the furious squawks of the insects, their noisy tools and vehicles and contraptions. He cared for only one thing.

Megatron climbed to his pedes, letting out a long, deafening roar. He flared his EM field. The reaction was instantaneous.

The raw power spread across the entire valley, invading everything it touched. The gunfire ceased. Lights flickered before they went out, some exploding with a shower of sparks and glass. Humans flailed, ripping off their visors as they ceased to function. Others screamed as their commlinks were filled with ear-splitting white noise. The flock of noisy helicopters hovering over the titan went silent.

Megatron reached through the blood-bond, feeling the pulses of Jack's consciousness reply. But they were growing fainter, slower… _dying_.

No! Jack was not allowed to die! He alone decided the human's fate, not _them_!

The tyrant wrapped the claws of his mind around his pet's in his vice grip, keeping it from slipping away. Jack was pulling back, either trying to escape or falling. Megatron followed the pull, moving forward in powerful strides. He did not care what lay in his path, whether it may be flesh or metal. Buildings that blocked his path were leveled with a few blasts of his fusion cannon.

Jack was quiet, so quiet, yet Megatron could still hear his bonded.

The Decepticon lord sent his servo into the concrete roof. It split apart under his blow with a terrible noise, caving inward in a shower of debris. There were shrieks from the occupants inside, only for the sound to cut off. Megatron loomed over the newly made entrance, his bright optics bathing it in a sinister crimson glow.

He was greeted with a human with dark irises and silverish fur, a white piece of garment over his clothing. The fleshling stared up at him with eyes as wide as moons and his mouth agape in a silent scream. In his hand was a wicked knife… hovering over Jack.

A violet haze covered Megatron's vision, and his roar boomed, " _ **Wretched fleshling!"**_

He drove a single claw into the human's chest.

There was a violent jerk and red blood spilled from the fleshling's mouth with a strange gurgling sound. The Decepticon watched with a sneer as the light faded from its eyes, leaving an empty, lifeless gaze. The body fell with a wet thump.

With his unstained servo, Megatron carefully plucked up Jack from the slab of a bed. He was covered in an ugly green, flimsy material. His skin had grown paler, and it was covered in wounds both healed and fresh. The young human did not react to warm metal around him, remaining limp and lifeless.

No, Jack was not dead.

There were still whispers of his thoughts filtering through the bond. The dark energon in Megatron's spark pulsed in the presence of another's.

The titan offlined his optics in concentration and tightened his hold on his pet, both physically and mentally. He dragged Jack's consciousness to the surface, pushing it forward with his own. The dark energon in his blood churned, pulsing along with Megatron's. Beating against the human's heart.

Then finally Jack's eyes flew open with a desperate gasp.

His lungs opened to allow fresh air, but his dry throat protested. He hacked violently, his body spasming out of control. Megatron merely held him tight to prevent the little thing from tumbling off his palm. It was almost a full minute until the coughs died to desperate wheezing, one of Jack's arms hanging limp from the Decepticon's servo.

" _ **I have you now, my little one,"**_ Megatron purred, both over the bond and through the air.

Jack's gaze was unfocused, but he stirred at the words, pressing against the possessive palm. His eyes slid closed, and he fell limp once again. The warlord could hear the air cycling through his body and could feel the beating of his heart, in tandem with his own spark.

Megatron held the human against his chest. Where Jack belonged, by his side, in his servos. The Decepticon lord would destroy anyone foolish enough to dare take him.

Jack.

Was.

 _His._

The overbearing roar of an engine filled the air. Following by several others, loud and irritating.

Megatron nearly rolled his optics. For all their speeches, they took their time. The dictator turned, to see blinding white lights erupting through the trees. Bright and obnoxious colors flashed in the moonlight. Autobots were not known for subtlety.

" _Soundwave, I require a groundbridge,"_ he hailed, turning away from his long-hated enemies.

There were sounds of transformation, followed by furious bellows. Making sure the Autobots had a good view of Jack nestled in his palm, Megatron stepped through the groundbridge.

* * *

"NO! JACK!"

Arcee was helpless, forced to watch as Megatron once again stole her charge. The Decepticon lord sneered, fangs glinting evilly in the light of the swirling, groundbridge vortex. His gleaming crimson optics locked with hers, mockingingly, and then they were both _gone_. The boy she promised to protect… and couldn't. She was responsible for him and yet again… she _failed_. Miserably.

" _NOOO_!" Arcee shrieked as she skidded to a halt where they had been moments ago, only to encounter _empty_ air.

She balled her servos into fists, clenching them tightly by her sides, gritting her denta as her body shook violently. Beside her, the assault team stood frozen. Bulkhead's optics were wide in shock and Smokescreen stood frozen. Even Ironhide looked around in disbelief, his EM field pulled in tight. Optimus Prime stood stoic as ever, his lips pulled in a frown and his gaze hard.

After their disastrous encounter with Starscream, and Laserbeak's escape, Ratchet and Arcee rushed back to the base. Colonel Lennox was reluctant the moment they told him Jack was taken to a foreign country, but was not surprised. As a fugitive, it would make sense, since Silas would hide as far as possible from American soil, where his pursuers could not reach him.

Arcee could scrap human customs. She was taking back her charge, no matter what stood in her way, Decepticon or human. Lennox seemed to have realized that, or he simply did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

"We can't move into Albania," he had said. "But you can… as long as you go quietly."

It seemed that "quiet" had long been forgotten. The MECH base they had tracked from NEST's satellites lay in shambles. Grooves cut through the ground and scorched craters scarred the earth. The burning wreckages of Humvees and helicopters littered the vicinity within a five mile radius. Grand warehouses were reduced to piles of rubble and military tents were turned to ash.

Megatron did not seem to care for subtlety.

It was obvious MECH had fought to the Pit. Bullet casings were everywhere along with dented, broken shells of missiles. Dark energon and crimson blood stained the concrete. Charred, mutilated corpses of MECH soldiers were spread across the ruined base.

"Well, there goes our window," Ironhide finally broke the silence in a gruff voice. "Now what do we do?"

"Autobots! Search the area. There may be survivors…" the Prime regally ordered.

"Survivors?!" Arcee gawked, whirling around with blazing optics. "Look around, Optimus! Megatron _leveled_ the place!" She gestured to the destruction around them before continuing, "They took Jack! And how do we know know if they didn't hurt him?"

Optimus's gaze hardened at the femme's harsh words. "They are still human, Arcee, whom we have sworn to protect." Before she could say another word, he added, "One of the survivors may know what happened here."

As if it wasn't obvious. But Arcee knew better than to argue with her Prime. Her helm fell into a reluctant nod, and the Autobots slowly dispersed across the runs of the base. Arcee obeyed her commander's order but her sparked still burned, still thirsted, for retribution. She was so _close_. The femme picked through the twisted remains, moving aside warped pieces of metal and chunks of concrete. She was painfully aware of the flesh that cluttered the ground, mindful of each step she took.

Arcee paused, her audials sharpening when what sounded like a low moan, came from a few paces away. The two-wheeler approached cautiously, weapons systems primed, but on standby. She reached down and removed a thick sheet of burnt steel to find a barely conscious MECH soldier, hidden beneath the shredded remains of a camo-net.

His eyes were half-lidded and blood escaped the corner of his mouth. He let out a harsh cough, and more of the red liquid spilled out. Arcee didn't have to scan his broken body to know he was critically damaged, and likely did not have long to live.

"What happened here?" she demanded bluntly.

"A...s-silver...monster…" the man croaked, his eyes going wide at the memory. "It… came outta nowhere… s-started tearing ap-apart _e-everyth-thing_."

The human started shuddering, gaze staring at nothing. Arcee moved so he was forced to look at her. She partly wondered if the shell-shocked soldier saw her metal skin or heard her robotic twang, She wasn't sure if she was just traumatizing him more, considering one of her kind had sliced many of his comraces in half. But she needed answers, _now_.

"What about a boy? Was he here?" she interrogated.

"S-Silas's…. little lab rat. Gave him… t-to Mar-Marcus to play with. H-heard the doc...was d-dissect-ing...his brain."

Arcee froze. _Dissect_? As in-

She snatched the front of the human's armor, pulling him closer so their faces were only inches apart.

"What are you talking about? What do you mean by 'play'?" she demanded. "What did you do to him?!"

"It's a sh-shame…" The dying soldier cracked a weak, wicked smirk, revealing bloodied teeth. "His screams were funny…"

Arcee saw red. With a screech, she ejected her razor-sharp blade, raising high into the air to bring it down on the miserable fleshling-

"Arcee, no!"

Suddenly a large, strong servo snatched hers, bodily pulling her away from the MECH soldier. The two-wheeler twisted with a snarl, only to meet cold, blue optics.

" _What_ are you doing?" Optimus Prime demanded.

"Getting results!" Arcee snapped back, her own optics blazing with fury.

"And breaking protocol." The Autobot leader's gaze narrowed sternly." Autobots do not inflict harm unless all other options have been exhausted. It's what separates us from the Decepticons."

"This is not the time for lectures, Optimus! Megatron has Jack, and we're squandering time here!"

"We _will_ save Jackson. I will not endanger innocent human lives."

"Like you endangered Jack?! We could have saved him before but YOU ordered us to ALLOW Megatron to take him prisoner!" The femme hardly registered the other Autobots had gathered, summoned by the commotion. Instead, raw heat filled her chest, rising to her words. "And what about Cliffjumper, Tailgate?! I will not lose another partner to that _monster._ Don't you realize you had the chance to pound Megatron into scrap?! Many chances, in fact!"

Optimus's frame stiffened for the briefest of moments, but his EM field betrayed no emotion. Unlike the others around them, whose flared with shock. Ironhide's flashed with anger, the 'Bot growling dangerously at the insolent speech towards his leader, but Arcee did not care. She only glared at the Autobot leader, who merely closed his optics.

"I am afraid your desire to avenge your fallen comrades has impaired your judgement," he replied solemnly. "I'm confining you to base until further notice."

Instantly the fury melted away, Arcee's optics widening as her wings flattened.

"What?" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Then it raised back into a frantic yell, "No! You can't do that! Jack is _my_ partner! Please, Optimus!"

"Until you have learned to control your emotions, you have left me no choice." His stone-like expression was unyielding even when facing her desperate one.

Arcee opened her mouth to refute, to refuse, that the Prime was being unfair. But she realized the Guardian Knight could be no such thing. She clipped her intake closed and her shoulders slumped pitifully as her dim gaze lowered to the ground.

"Fine…" she murmured, defeated.

Optimus frowned, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second. Then that stoic mask returned. "Ratchet, we require a groundbridge…" He turned back to Arcee. "Your comrades will do everything in our power to retrieve our friend, you have my word."

The femme's spark twisted. She hated the idea of someone else finding Jack before she could, when she had so much to say. What would he think of her? Was he waiting for her? Did he blame her?

Arcee's fists clenched tightly as the bright groundbridghe opened before her. Stiffly, reluctantly, she stepped forward, but not without pausing, looking over the carnage Megatron had wrought. And now her charge was in that savage's claws.

Arcee would get him back. No matter the cost.


	18. Safe

**Whoo, longest chapter so far! Consider it making up all the chapters without Megatron. Or, I get my best inspiration when I'm procrastinating my exams. XD I debated about breaking this up into two chapters, but my beta and I agreed that breaking it up would just ruin the flow. So, enjoy an extra long chapter of fluff, traumatized Jack, and psychopathy Megatron.**

 **Also, a huge thanks to** Aethelgythe, **for dealing with my inconsistent school schedule and helping me with this story!**

* * *

Something was scratching the back of Jack's neck. Long and sharp, rubbing gentle, but firm circles across his delicate skin. The boy shifted under the touch, only for a _deep_ ache to radiate across his body. His body felt heavy and numb. His hearing was muted and his vision was horribly blurry, like he was underwater. He only saw a pale light far above him. He blinked slowly. Then again. And again.

The world did not focus. Only that dim, alien glow remained. With a groan, Jack willed his body to move. He saw a shape move into his vision, and it took his mind a solid minute to realize it was his own arm. It felt like he was manipulating another's limb—a weight that was not his own. The arm fell back down with a limp thud.

It was then a wave of feeling moved across his skin. He felt something soft and warm. Surrounding him. The boy clung onto the comforting sensation that seeped into his bones. Heat. It wrapped around him, like a cocoon.

Jack sunk into it. Maybe he could stay here. In this realm of warmth and comfort, surrounded by blissful nothingness. Where there was no pain, no cold, no cruelty, no suffering. Where he was _safe_.

He thought he heard a noise, but it was muffled against his ear.

"—ack?"

Jack blinked again at the distorted sound. He glanced back at the pale light, only to see a dark, menacing shadow looming over him.

Instantly terror seized his heart in a vice grip. No, no, no! He was _there_ , that horrible place! They weren't done yet! They were going to hurt him!

With a wail, the prisoner ripped out of his cocoon. Only for something solid to seize his wrists. _No_! Jack screamed.

He flailed, he kicked and punched. He spat and hissed and screeched at the top of his lungs. But the firm hold never relented. It wrapped around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides. Pressing his back against something hard and unforgiving.

Jack fought against the iron hold like a rabid animal. Why, why couldn't they leave him _alone_? What had he possibly done to deserve this?

Then suddenly something pierced the fog of his mind. Something dark and strong and possessive.

 ** _Enough._**

Jack blinked. The world had come into focus. He was first aware of shadow. It completely surrounded him as solid, black walls. A pale glow illuminated the darkness, showing a void that stretched out before him. Underneath him was a soft, warm material, that sunk underneath his weight. What was—

Then he realized.

This was—

No, it wasn't. This couldn't be real. It was another dream. It was another bad dream.

It was then Jack became aware of the arms wrapped around him, keeping him in place. His back was pressed against the front of a solid frame. Razor-sharp denta scraped against his ear, hot ex-ventilations on his neck. Long, deadly claws ran through his hair, impossibly careful and gentle across his scalp. Suddenly that smooth metal wrapped around his face again, turning his head. Allowing him to meet burning red optics.

"M-M-Megatron…"

"I am here, my little one."

It was then Jack became aware of his surroundings. He was in the _Nemesis_ , in Megatron's quarters. He was on the warlord's gigantic berth, in his arms. But instead of being the size of a building, the titan was no larger than a human. It made Jack's brain reel in confusion until he remembered. While all Cybertronians could displace their mass, Megatron could do it better than others.

He lay beside the teenager, holding him possessively, which Jack's head propped in the crook of his arm. There was a blanket wrapped around him, and the boy stiffened when he became aware of his bare skin. He was still wearing briefs, which was a minor relief, but it made him all the more confused.

"W-what…" Jack stammered, trying to form words, but his tongue would not work. His voice sounded terribly hoarse, like nails grating against each other.

Megatron stroked his greasy hair back, comforting. "No more harm will come to you, my pet. Those wretched humans are gone."

Humans. MECH. His captors. His torturers.

"What…" he whispered again, shivering. Then it was like a wildfire filled his chest. His voice rose to a furious screech, " _What took you so long_?!"

Without warning, Jack lunged forward, not caring that he managed to catch the former Champion by surprise. He pounded his fists against the metal being's chest, as hard as he could.

"This is all _your_ fault!" Jack screamed. "They only took me because of the dark energon! Which you forced down my throat! They took me because of _you_! I hate you! _I hate you_!"

He ignored the pain that exploded from his hands and the blood that poured from his skin, sliced open by razor-sharp armor. The discomfort was so insignificant compared to all the _agony_ he had lived through. Megatron didn't slap him away during the violent fit. The warlord merely brushed aside most of Jack's attacks, but not roughly, as if he was careful not to harm the child.

It only made the traumatized teenager flail harder, trying to get away, trying to escape. Only for the metal arms trapping him to tighten.

"Get off me! Get off me!"

His pleas were ignored. Jack thrashed to free himself and shrieked like a rabid animal. But Megatron kept his hold, never flinching, never letting him go. He didn't know how long his fit lasted, but exhaustion washed over him like a wave and his muscles burned with protest. Jack let out a sob of defeat and went limp, failing to stop his head from falling on the Decepticon's hard shoulder. He panted heavily, his shoulders heaving as he desperately tried to fill his lungs. It took several long moments for him to speak.

"They tortured me," Jack murmured breathlessly. Megatron made no reply, and with his face buried in the dictator's armor, he couldn't see his reaction. "They ripped me apart and put me back together and they did over and over and _over_ again." Suddenly his vision blurred, and his voice cracked without his permission. "I tried to make them stop. I fought back, Megatron, I swear I did, but they wouldn't _stop._ Even when I _begged_ them to _._ They wouldn't listen to me—they just kept punching me and cutting me and electrocuting me. They tried to drown me and when that didn't work th-they… they shoved in s-some _grave_."

The teen's body started to shake, and he wasn't aware of his quivering voice. Gentle claws returned to massaging his scalp. Jack didn't resist-couldn't resist. He was too weak and the graphic images covered his vision. Until all he could see was a lifeless corpse.

"I… I k-killed someone," he whimpered. "I d-don't know what ha-happened. It was so f-fast. I just remember I was s-so _angry_." A painful lump formed in his throat as Jack trembled harder. He clung to edges of the tyrant's armor, ignoring the metal digging into his fingers, too desperate to keep his hold on reality. "I… I-I was so s-s- _scared_." A weird, strangled sob escaped the army brat's throat. "I-I"m so, so s-sorry, Megatron. I was scared but I-I—" Another choke-like sound. "Th-they wouldn't _stop_."

Jack knew how weak he must have sounded, rambling in his broken voice. Megatron did not say a single word through it all, and it made his stomach twist with terror. Was the warlord angry with him?

The human had failed his mission. Megatron sent him to seek out MECH and bring back evidence. Now Jack was babbling about how he had _failed_. Was that why Megatron was quiet? Had he finally realized the boy was no use to him? Had he grown bored of his helpless pet?

Jack would not be surprised if the Decepticon leader decided to kill him and get it over with. The boy shuddered when he felt hot ventilations on his neck. He let out another odd, strained sound, braced for the end to come.

"Let go, Jack," Megatron murmured in his ear, his gravelly tone impossibly soft.

The teenager started at the words, confused. What did he mean? Megatron _wasn't_ going to kill him? After everything? After everything MECH did to him, after they—

A sob tore from Jack's throat that he couldn't stop it. It was then he became aware of tears spilling from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks. He tried to make it stop, but like everything else, it was useless. And then the dam in Jack's mind came undone.

He cried. His sobs grew more and more violent, his shaking grew worse and worse, his eyes stung with tears. He spat curses, at Megatron, at MECH, and at the unfairness of the world. He wailed at the top of his lungs.

A part of Jack realized this was the second time he had a mental meltdown in the tyrant's arms, but he didn't have the will to care. Megatron didn't relent his hold, and the teen felt the tendrils of a presence wrapping around him. The darkness cocooned him, lulling his mind with gentle waves of security and assurance, holding him possessively.

It was a long time until Jack's sobs died down into pathetic hiccups, desperately gasping for air. His face red and his skin was cold. He curled into his pitiful blanket, using the corner to wipe the wetness from his face. He jumped when suddenly a claw brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear there.

The boy was met with inscrutable crimson optics. He let out a quivering breath.

"H-how long was I gone?" he dared to ask, the only question his blurred mind was capable of processing.

Megatron was quiet for a long moment, then answered simply in a quiet rumble, "Ten of your Earth's solar cycles."

Jack froze as he translated the warlord's words. Ten days. Ten days of constant, brutal torture. It had felt so much longer, but to _hear it_ —

The boy swallowed thickly. "How d-did you find me?"

"Soundwave is very resourceful."

Jack's eyes widened. "You… looked for me?"

Megatron mirrored his expression, cocking an optic ridge. "You would think I would not?"

The teen fidgeted then, wringing his hands. "I… I couldn't feel you through our bond. I thought you were mad at me."

He looked away, unable to meet those glaring optics. Only for a solid servo to cup his cheek, turning his head to look back into the titan's gaze.

"Do you remember what I told you, Jack?" Megatron asked.

 _"_ _I will never abandon you, my Jack. You are mine, and mine alone. For all of time."_

The army brat bit his lip, but his head fell into a nod.

"Say it."

"…You said you would never abandon me."

The Decepticon nodded slowly. "And I will keep my promise, my little one. They sought to steal you from me. And because of that, they were punished."

Jack's skin crawled as he digested the dangerous growl. The one that he knew all too well, that promised death to those that heard it. It was then he realized. He was held in the bowels of MECH's base, always under lock and key and no doubt an army of trigger-happy maniacs surrounded him. If he was here, on the _Nemesis_ , then that meant…

"You… killed them, didn't you?" Jack asked in a whisper.

"Indeed."

The boy was silent for a long moment. "Is... Silas dead?"

"Perhaps."

Jack frowned, balling up the blanket in his fists. The words came out before he could stop him. "He has to die, Megatron. Please tell me he's dead."

The Decepticon leader tilted his helm, blinking. "I assumed you were averse to violence."

"...I'll make an exception for him." When Megatron merely stared, Jack's gaze darkened, and he couldn't keep the venom from his voice. "He _hurt_ me."

Critical crimson eyes flickered across his face, a claw running across a mark across his cheekbone.

"Then he will be punished as well," the tyrant decided darkly.

"And Dr. DiBiase."

"Doctor?" When Jack nodded slowly, Megatorn let out a low cackle, that sounded like metal grating against each other. "Then be assured, my dear. I killed him when I found him holding a blade to your skull."

Instantly the army brat's blood turned to ice. "He… tried to kill me?"

His guardian. The man that promised to watch over him. The only one that remained in his life, alongside Mom, after his father had been killed. Even moving from one side to the States, after all the death and tragedy, DiBiase was one of the few constants.

Now he was gone… Megatron had killed him, had robbed another loved one from Jack's life. The teenager felt a rush of hot fury fill his chest, but it wasn't towards the tyrant.

"B-Bastard," he hissed. "I trusted him, and he _lied_ to me—"

"What one appears on the surface can appear vastly different than their true nature," Megatron rumbled.

Jack trembled in rage and balled his hands into tight fist, nails biting his skin. "I-I loved him…"

"I doubt the feeling was mutual."

"I feel so stupid…"

"No, you are merely human."

Instead of a calming assurance, the tone was condescending, as if the flaw was obvious. As if being human was easily fixable.

Normally Jack would argue such insulting logic and remind the warlord of his hypocriticism. However, he didn't have the energy or will for such a debate. He didn't have such a chance as suddenly Megatron pulled away. The human couldn't help but shiver as a cold void was left behind, having him curl further into his blanket.

He wished he had his warm clothes. His torturers usually tore them from his body to reach the fragile skin underneath, and he was rarely given spare ones. But what happened to them? How did Megatron find him, to take him in such a state? Was he that much in a hurry?

At least the warlord was still mindful of his humanity, by fishing out something to cover himself with. The interior of the _Nemesis_ never saw the warmth of the sun, and as the warship orbited the Earth high in the atmosphere, it was constantly chilled.

The sound of transformation stirred Jack from his thoughts as a heavy shadow fell over the poor boy. He was met with Megatron, returned to his full height, looming over him. He didn't resist as claws carefully slipped underneath him, scooping him up off the berth. Jack clung to the titan's thumb as he lumbered to the other side of the room, promptly depositing him on a flat surface.

Without another word, Megatron turned away, ducking into a sealed door in the corner of the room. Jack eyed what he was doing? Another dosage of dark energon? So soon? The boy wasn't eager to have anymore anytime soon, not after Silas stole his necklace and injected him with it like it was a drug. Not after… what he _did._

It was all in a blur, but Jack could not push that graphic image from his mind. Marcus's twisted body laying across the floor, a _deep_ wide cut spreading across his neck ear-to-ear. He had spasmed several times with wet gurgling sounds, his lungs demanding for air only to be filled with thick, suffocating blood. It had formed a pool underneath him, growing larger and larger as the fluids continued to gush from the lethal wound.

The wound Jack had inflicted. Suddenly the metal around him spun, and nausea seized him in a vice grip. He had to press his hand against the surface underneath him to keep himself steady. He _killed_ a human being. When he told that he would never be capable of such a thing, that he would save lives and never take them.

But… Marcus deserved it, right? He… was a monster. He cackled when Jack begged for mercy and laughed when the boy screamed. Sometimes he grew bored when the prisoner didn't screech enough. Other times he would record a session with a camera, keeping it like it was some sick trophy.

Jack… _had_ to, didn't he? It was the only way to make Marcus stop. But it was Silas that locked him in… in that _grave_ …

The boy was ripped from his thoughts as suddenly the world trembled in a slow, steady rhythm. his hair stood on end as a powerful EM field embraced him. His senses were still on alert, as he jumped when suddenly there was a heavy, dull thud beside him.

He recognized it as an energon cube, half-filled with a strange liquid. It was translucent, but it was murky with a strange fog.

"What's that supposed to be?" Jack asked, scrutinizing the box that had to be the size of his room.

"You're filthy," Megatron merely commented, claws plucking him up into the air.

Oh. Jack supposed with the blood, sweat, and fear, he would have an unpleasant scent. Quite obviously his captors didn't bother keeping up with his hygiene. DiBiase would usually wipe away the dirt and blood when he treated him, but that was as far as it went. Until Marcus came up with his own _solution_.

The teenager glanced down at the cloudy liquid with a skeptical frown. It looked like soap mixed with water…

 _A large tub of water, taking up almost half of the cramped room, just like Marcus promised. Only his hair stood on end as frigid horror coursed through his body, as he saw white, jagged chunks floating across the surface._

Jack yowled.

Suddenly the solid black walls were replaced by a lifeless room, closing in and the teenager found it hard to breathe. Instantly the boy's heart jumped to his throat. Instead of the broad servo, he felt cruel hands shoving him forward. The bath came closer. No, not again, not again!

"NO! Please! _Please_!" Jack begged, clinging onto metal plating.

He shivered madly, eyes shut tight. Then soothing, possessive waves washed over him.

"Hush now, my pet," Megatron rumbled above him.

The grip around his thoughts tightened, as if to emphasize the words. The human felt the dull side of his claws rub his back, almost comfortingly. Jack let out a shuddering breath, beginning to calm underneath the touch. He slowly, reluctantly, loosened his vice grip on the Decepticon's armor. He forced his eyes open, forcing his tense muscles to relax as Megatron lowered him into the cube.

He couldn't help but flinch as his foot was sucked up by the liquid, but instead of frigid claws, heat radiated up his leg. Jack blinked and in the next moment he found himself nearly waist deep in the strange fluid. An almost semi-sweet, tangy scent filled his nostrils as he sank further into it, but it was different than human soap. It was warm, but not scalding.

"W-What is this?" Jack dared to ask, unable to keep the hesitant tremble from his voice,

"Rest assured, little one, the solvent should not affect your flesh," Megatron merely explained matter-of-factly. "I will give you some time."

With that, the warlord move away, turning his back as he went to meddle with something on the other side of the room. Jack's heart quickened at the sudden absence of that powerful EM field, but he was grateful Megatron understood human culture enough to respect his privacy. Even though, he kept his thin article of clothing on as he turned his attention to his own body.

Jack carefully splashed the solvent over his skin, washing away the layer of filth. Not having any materials, he used his palm to brush away more stubborn grime clinging to him. He vigorously scrubbed every single inch of his body, trying to get every spec of dirt and blood off of him. He ended up washing the same parts twice, but could still see the blood staining his skin—which was littered with pink and pale marks. Some were redder than others.

The teen swallowed thickly and tried not to focus on it. He didn't know how long he lingered in the bath, only that his skin had long turned into prunes. Jack was surprised Megatron had remained so patient.

Not wanting to test it any further, the human moved towards the edge of the cube. The rim wasn't terribly high—the teen could probably pull himself over. However, his legs felt numb and his hands shook without his permission. It was a struggle just to move the few steps and Jack didn't trust himself.

His idea of it was humiliating, but the image of him landing on his head was even more so. He swallowed and it took him a moment to get his tongue to work.

"M-Megatron?" Jack called, his voice quiet and hesitant. "I-I need help."

He didn't have to wait long. The solvent's surface began to shake as the titan neared and a silent shadow cloaked over the shivering boy. Silver claws encased him and the warm embrace retreated. Jack then found himself on a cool metal surface, exposed to the chilly air that bit at his wet skin.

With chattering teeth, he scrambled for the discarded blanket and promptly draped it over his shoulders. Deciding it could double as a towel, the teen used it to wipe the dampness from his body. It didn't absorb it like cotton—Jack realized the material wasn't cotton at all. It was soft and flexible, but it was smooth and shiny, like metal. Mesh, maybe?

As the human struggled to dry off, Megatron unsubspaced something—it looked like a box, no bigger than the dictator's palm.

"These should prove useful to you," he rumbled as he set it down before Jack.

The boy eyed the chest curiously. It looked to be the same material and mechanism as the little box Megatron had given him for his birthday, but larger. Jack's stomach twisted at the memory. How many days ago was that? Nearly two weeks? It felt like a lifetime had passed.

Shoving down the thought, he cautiously stepped forward, pressing against the switch to open the odd chest. The lid folded back with a hiss, and Jack's eyes widened.

"H-how did you get this?" he stammered, as he delicately picked up the clothes within.

He scrutinized the material, trying to find the tiniest flaw, but it was real. A pair of jeans and a dull grey sweater, just like his favorite one. Megatron grinned at Jack's amazement.

"Soundwave's symbiotes can be clever," the Decepticon warlord said simply, as if it explained everything.

It just made Jack even more confused. The Decepticons went out of their way to get this, just for him? How? He certainly couldn't picture Laserbeak or Ravage browsing the racks at JCPenney's. The human decided not to ask further, as he knew he would never get a clear answer. Instead, his lips pulled in the beginnings of a smile.

"Th-thank you, Megatron," he stammered. He began to pull the articles of clothing over himself. The cotton was soft and cozy against his skin, warding away the cool air.

"It is only natural I will take care of the needs of my pet."

Once Jack was fully dressed, Megatron extended his servo. The boy braced to be manhandled again, only to blink in surprise when the servo pressed against the surface before him. Before he could comment, there gears and plating shifted, and the metal hand began to shrink. The human blinked when Megatron's shrunken form stood before him once again.

The Decepticon lord waved a single claw, and Jack did not dare defy the order, hesitantly moving forward. He couldn't help but pause when he brought up his sharp talons, only to watch with fascinated horror as Megatron sank his fangs into his own wrist. Bright, violet liquid seeped from the wound.

Instantly Jack's stomach twisted painfully and his knees weakened. The dreaded itch returned, cold and burning at the same time, seeping into his bones. He knew he shouldn't feel this way. There was already a fresh dosage of dark energon in his veins, and he knew he had gone longer with it. But the boy did not have a solid meal for over a week, other than the few meager bites his captors had forced down his throat.

He was _starving_.

"Come, my little one," Megatron beckoned, in a sickly seductive tone.

Whatever was left of Jack's sanity screamed in repulsion, that it was disgusting- _taboo_. But like every time, the overwhelming feeling of powerlessness washed over him, drowning any logic thought lingering in his mind. And Jack found he didn't care.

He drank, and this time he didn't notice the vile taste. He was only faintly aware of claws tangling in his hair. Jack pulled away, coughing from his burning throat. His gut was still a tight knot, and he found himself wrapping his arms around his middle.

"I-I'm sorry," the boy stammered, even though he didn't know what he was apologizing for.

Megatron had shifted to not even a tenth of his size to his full height and back again. No doubt he had burned through his energon reserves. The warlord only had so much of the dark energon, collected from his interstellar travels, and like Jack, it was the only fuel his body would accept. The teenager couldn't comprehend why he would risk sharing so much with a human like him.

Like he could read his thoughts, Megatron flashed his fangs, purring, "It is alright, little one. I have enough to sustain us both."

Jack needed no further encouragement after that. He had his fill, his veins tingling with renewed energy. The frigideness in his skin had vanished. His body felt heavy, and he found himself clinging onto a strong arm for support .

Megatron pulled the human closer, pressing his body against the bold and proud Decepticon insignia of his chest. The metal pulsed underneath Jack's fingertips, in tandem with the titan's sick spark. Identical to Jack's own heartbeat.

Echoes of the blood-bond reverberated across his mind, quieting his own frantic thoughts. With impossibly gentleness, a single claw stroked through his hair and down his spine. Jack pushed down the reflex to shudder and instead leaned into the touch. The young human curled into the possessive cocoon and his eyes slid shut.

It was the first time, in a very long time, that Jack felt safe.

* * *

Jack slept.

His sleep was long and heavy, spending most of the day cemented to Megatron's ridiculously huge berth. Sometimes it was an escape, a chance for the boy to sink into the void of nothing where reality did not exist. Other times, he would find himself trapped in nightmares. Their horrors had evolved. Jack would run through the streets of Cybertron as the world crumbled around him, only to find himself surrounded by metal, _imprisoned_. Voices taunted him—sadistic sneers, false assurances, sinister growls. The teen would scream at the top of his lungs, begging someone to find him, to save him.

Each time, the darkness answered, pushing away the terror. Jack would wake up in Megatron's arms or in his huge servo, shaking and sweating and crying. The fear that filled his senses would be stomped down, replaced by waves of protective possessiveness.

His waking hours were spent in a bland routine, taking his dosage of dark energon when given and quietly bathing himself in solvent. Megatron would occasionally give him gifts from the surface, either new clothes or even a treat of solid food (though it was no more than a few bites). The frail teenager steadily grew stronger, walking more and more on his own. Eventually he was able to climb out of the bath on his own, so the Decepticon leader would return to find a shiny and dry Jack waiting for him.

Although his muscles were rejuvenated with fresh energy, his mind remained in a fog. The teen found himself trapped in a loop, thinking of the same negative thoughts over and over. Megatron would speak to him, but the growls blurred together and Jack didn't know how to continue the debate. Eventually the dictator would grow bored and the human was left in silence.

Jack's heart would begin to quicken whenever the glaring alien light faded into darkness, and he felt the blackness pressing against him, suffocating him. It was worse whenever Megatron left. Panic would seize the teenager in a vice grip, making it difficult to even breathe. He would find himself trapped in silence and darkness, _alone_.

Overcome by terror, Jack would scream and scream. He wailed Megatron's name, like a lost toddler crying for a parent. Either hearing him or feeling the onslaught through the blood-bond, the Decepticon would return. Waves of comforting darkness would wash over the distraught boy as Megatron held him. Sometimes it took longer that others for the utter terror to epp away. Much like when Jack was a captive of MECH, days blurred together. Only this time he did not bother trying to keep track.

The boy was nestled in the warm material of the berth, trying to slip into the embrace of sleep. He was jostled by the sound of heavy pedes, starting awake. With a grumpy groan, Jack blinked his eyes open, only to be greeted with silver claws. Still half-asleep, the teenager didn't have the energy to resist as Megatron snatched him up into the air. He was secured against the tyrant's chest, claws wrapped tightly around him

"Wh-where we goin'?"" Jack slurred, blinking rapidly to rid of his blurry vision.

"You shall see, my dear," Megatron replied simply.

He strode down the hallways of the _Nemesis_. From his metal cage, Jack couldn't see much, only shapes passing by, chattering in Cybertronian—most likely the drones. Then suddenly the suppressing darkness vanished, replaced by blinding, warm light.

It burned Jack's eyes, eliciting a violent hiss. He squinted and shielded his face with his hands. He felt ridiculous, hiding away from the light when he lived in a desert of all things. But after weeks in nearly total darkness, he had forgotten what it even felt like—

Jack blinked. Wait—

The teenager slowly lowered his arms, forcing himself to glance up. The light was still glaring, but he felt gentle, comforting warmth touching his face. Jack smiled at the sun.

"Beautiful thing we take for granted, is it not?"

Instead of that deep, deadly tone, the sentence was soft— _longing_. It sounded almost displaced, making Jack turn to see if it was still Megatron still looming above him. The tyrant was staring at him with that intense crimson gaze. The human wondered if he was recalling his life as a lowly miner, not seeing the sun for vorns.

Jack didn't know to reply—he wasn't sure Megatron wanted one. He never had the chance, as suddenly the Decepticon lord took a mighty, jarring step forward, then launched himself high into the air. Before Jack could even work up a scream, there was the grinding of gears of transformation. Metal moved around him, sealing him off from the outside world.

Megatron had no interest in taking in a human disguise, so he had no cockpit, no windows. Jack found himself in a cocoon of metal, the sides pressing against him. He pushed against plating and wires, feeling energon pulsing through the giant's veins underneath his palms. A deep hum reverberated around him, drowning out any other sound. Jack blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness, but it did not go away. It was painfully hot, making it difficult to breathe.

 _The prisoner pounded against the walls of his prison with all his might, turning his bruised knuckles raw and bloody._

Jack cried out, "No, wait! Megatron, put me down! I don't like this!"

A monstrous roar was his only reply, the cocoon shuddering around him. The boy whimpered as his organs fell to his feet, telling the Cybertronian was doing the complete opposite of his plea. Jack thrashed, but it was hard to move.

"Megatron! Stop, stop! Let me go! _Please_!"

The teen rose his voice to a desperate scream, but still there was no reply. Instead, he felt a presence brush against his. Jack instinctively ducked into the safe recesses of his mind, only for the darkness push harder.

 ** _Do not fear, my pet_**.

Jack was trembling, torn between stubbornly ignoring Megatron or allowing his will to embrace him. He felt the warlord's mind wrap around his—firm, but not painful or dominating. It merely swatted his negative emotions away, and the boy forced himself to unwind. Only when he did, the darkness sunk into his thoughts.

Jack stiffened. _What are you doing? Stop!_

Instead, Megatron twisted pieces of his mind and shoved others away, like the human's psyche was clay to be molded and thrown away if it was ugly. Jack resisted, throwing useless thoughts and memories at the invader. He should have known. He should have known Megatron was up to something. It was why he gave Jack dark energon in the first place.

To turn him into the perfect little pup—

The thought was banished before he could even finish it. The darkness's hold turned a vice grip. Jack thought of home, of Mom and Raf and Miko—and Arcee…

 ** _I am your home now._**

It was Megatron that saved him from the clutches of MECH. It was Megatron that reaped vengeance on his captors. The tyrant brought him to sanctuary, fed him, washed him, comforted him. Megatron would never let him go. They would be together, for all of time.

 ** _Let go, Jack._**

The teenager let out a single sob, and the sliver of humanity he had left slipped from his hold. Immediately Megatron's mind cascaded over his own, replacing his thoughts with dark, twisted ones. Jack gritted his teeth at the onslaught, fingers digging into metal plating. He felt the cruel tyrant's anger, ambition, hatred… his admiration. For a wet, muddy planet, Earth had scenery that the metallic Cybertron could never replicate.

Far above the surface, the land below was painted in patches of colors, from green to blue to red to yellow. It was flat, stretching in all direction until it bent to meet the horizon. Far from civilization, only a handful of human structures rose from the earth. But Megatron was not interested in them.

He tilted upwards, higher into the atmosphere. Above the clouds, the air was colder, and far thinner. The wind beneath his wings was weak, but it was just enough to lift him higher into the air, defying the tyrannical hold of gravity. For those in the sky followed no laws.

He still had to be mindful of the frail human tucked within his subspace. If he applied too much force, it would surely injure Jack. He did not go through so much trouble to reclaim his pet only to lose him due to brashness. Bound in the coils of their bond, Megatron felt the boy's fear, but it wouldn't be there for long. Jack would enjoy this.

Without another thought, Megatron dove, angling his front towards the ground. He felt gravity try to regain its grip on him, pulling him down faster and faster. Having an idea, the flyer twisted corkscrewing through the atmosphere, the sky and earth flipping back and forth like someone was playing with a switch. Wet condensation touched his wings as the clouds raced by in white streaks. It was replaced by roaring wind, whirling around him and drying his soaked plating in seconds.

A plain of lush green came closer and closer, until it filled his entire vision. Just when his heavy frame was about to slam into the planet, Megatron pulled back up. The roar of his afterburners thundered across the land. Trees violently whipped in the air as he flew over the canopy, the wind from his speed alone nearly bending them in half.

Jack trembled, but this time it was not from terror. Good. He was learning what defined the difference between a flyer and one trapped to the ground. But the ignorant human knew nothing yet.

Megatron tilted up until he was nearly vertical. Instantly the lift from his wings vanished, and he felt the planet's invisible claws wrapping around him, trying to drag him down. His first instinct was to redirect all his energon to his thrusters for maximum power and break free. No, it would terminate Jack.

Instead, Megatron contained himself as he forced himself higher and higher. Between the pull of gravity and the atmosphere slapping against him, it was not a pleasant flight. He had to physically tighten his hold on Jack to prevent the human from jostling too violently. The sky around him darkened more and more, it grew colder and colder, and the atmosphere became so thin he instinctively closed his vents.

Then, finally, he was free of Earth's clutches.

Instantly Megatron slowed his rapid ascension and leveled out. Two different views greeted him. One was filled with light, glowing brilliantly in a bluish-white glow. There were dark shapes within the glow, asymmetrical blotches mixing together to form a living, organic thing. The other was utter black, deep and unending. It too was filled with shapes, but these were burning like distant fires. Thousands and thousands of them, coming together to form a colorful, endless canvas of stars.

For the universe had no limit. Earth was so small and insignificant compared to the vastness of space. Merely a tiny rock floating among giants. Far beyond the stars, between two beacons of light, was Cybertron. His home was dead, but Megatron would see it restored to life. It would return to its brilliant beauty, glowing golden once again.

Megatron hovered for several long moments, lingering on the edge of the atmosphere and the edge of space. Both spread before him, both showing him all their secrets.

The Decepticon would have stayed in orbit for joors, but he did not have that luxury of time. He banked, sinking back into the alien atmosphere. He loathed it when gravity seized hold of him once again, but he merely had to remind himself he could break free whenever he liked. Megatron floated back down in wide, lazy circles.

One by one, the stars disappeared. The view of the universe was swallowed up by the clouds, replaced by the bright blue of the oceans. Eventually the great mass of the _Nemesis_ came into view, a menacing beast flying above its prey, waiting for the hunt to begin.

A squadron of Eradicons was returning from patrol, but they politely made way for their lord. Megatron did not need to show his gratitude, instead angling towards the flight deck. He transformed, landing squarely on his pedes. He caught Jack in his claws before the fleshling face-planted onto the solid metal. He retracted the bond, allowing the teen's thoughts to rise to back the surface.

Jack let out a desperate gasp, heaving as fresh air filled his lungs. Disorientation washed over him like a tidal wave. He could only see something smooth and solid around him, something ripping at his clothes. There was a rumbling sound above him, but he couldn't discern what it was.

He was only aware of the sensation of wind rushing around him. How he rose above the clouds. How he _flew_.

Jack recalled the feeling of weightlessness as he ignored the laws of physics. Soaring far above the Earth, like nothing could touch him. Not the Autobots, not the Decepticons, not MECH. It sent a rush through his veins. His body tingled and his mind was light, in a high he had never felt before.

Jack tried to return to reality, remind himself where he was, but only a giggle escaped. He attempted to muffle the strange sound, only to let out another chuckle. The teen realized he couldn't stop himself, falling into euphoria as his cackles turned into hysterical laughter. Tears sprung from his eyes and he wrapped his arms around his middle, as his belly seized with pain. It wasn't until his howls turned into hiccups that Jack managed to calm down.

The teenager panted heavily, trying to regain his breath. It took several moments to remember how to form words.

"That… that was… amazing," he gasped, a goofy smile across his lips. "It felt… like I was… I was flying!"

Megatron merely looked amused as he watched his pet roll back and forth in his palm. Jack realized he must have looked ridiculous, being so giddy over something that was so natural for the great jet. But as a human, Jack could not even fathom such sensations, until they had all cascaded over him.

He had felt _free_.


	19. Loose Cannons

**I'm back, baby! Sorry for the long disappearance, everyone. I was busy with school and personal life, so I had to put my writing on hold for a little while. And to be honest, I had slight haitus for this story. I know where I want to the plot to go, but I had difficulty figuring out how to get there. Maybe that's why I can't satisfied with this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

Megatron took Jack flying two more times after that. Each one filled him with as much excitement as the first. Jack was more willing to surrender his mind to the warlord's will, even though there was always the panicked voice screaming at him. The one taking him flying was still Megatron, and he was allowing the tyrant to take complete control over his heart. He was able to replace Jack's existence with his own. What if the boy closed his eyes in the titan's hold, and never woke up?

It was a fear he refused to share with Megatron, not even through their link. Instead, Jack spent most of his time beside the Decepticon leader. Megatron would allow him to wander away from the berth, letting him pace restless energy off across a desk. The human would perch himself onto a console, watching as alien script scroll across the screen as the dictator completed his work. Megatron must have caught him staring, because he brought the boy out of his stupor and pointed towards a Cybertronian glyph.

"What?" the teenager mumbled.

"Can you read this?" Megatron asked.

Jack gave the glyph a long, hard stare. His skull throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. It was nothing like a letter in English—or a character from any language. Still, after a moment, the teen came up with an answer.

"'Lord,'" he read. "And I guess the next bit is your name?"

"Very good, boy." Megatron smiled. Suddenly the harsh vowels of English were replaced by odd clicks and whirrs. _"From this point on, you will speak only in Cybertronian."_

Jack was given reading lessons after that. Cybertronian was nothing like English, not even possessing the same sounds, and when it was written down, it was even more complicated. The lines would blur together in alien shapes, some nearly identical, yet had completely different definitions. Megatron would show him an odd-looking glyph and quiz him on its meaning, and some took longer than others for Jack to reply. If he made a mistake, Megatron would patiently correct him.

When they weren't reviewing the odd characters, Jack talked to the titan about more idle things. The Decepticon was not afraid of describing Cybertron to the human, of how beautiful it was. Megatron told how towers scraped across the sky as far as the optics could see, and how proud and lively the mighty race once was. The human even managed to convince the warlord to tell a few war stories, some even dating back to his gladiatorial days, as the Champion of Kaon.

It made Jack wonder. He was dozing on Megatron's lap, sprawled across a broad thigh as the warlord tinkered with a datapad, when a particular thought crossed his mind.

"Megatron?"

"Hmm?"

"How—" Jack caught himself mid-sentence and corrected himself. _"How_ _did you become a gladiator?"_

Jack had seen the Decepticon leader's memories, when Megatron forced him into a cortical psychic patch to see the twisted mind within. He had watched the tyrant's rise to power, from a nameless miner to the Champion of Kaon to Lord of the Decepticons, to his descension into madness. However, it was all too much, too foreign, for the human to comprehend.

Megatron paused at his question, withdrawing his claws from the datapad as he titled his helm in thought. For a moment, Jack thought he would disregard him, then the warlord answered, _"I was sold."_

Jack felt something in chest twist at that. He remembered when Arcee had told him how those from the lowest of the castes were mistreated. How their T-cogs would be ripped out of them, how their bodies would be left to rust, how they were erased from history as if they didn't exist. But a living, sentient being… sold? Like slaves? Like they were just… property?

He must have been projecting his misgivings through the bond, because Megatron went on to explain, _"Those among the mining class were given the same standards as those that lived as servants. We would go wherever our 'masters' desired. I was transferred between mines twelve times, merely to fill the quality of demand."_

 _"Then…"_ Jack felt uncomfortable with the question, like he was overstepping a line.

He had _never_ heard Megatron speak so openly about his slavery before. He realized this was his only chance to answer the questions he had for so long, but he did not know how long the former gladiator's patience would last. Jack swallowed and summoned his courage.

" _How did you get into the arena?"_

 _"I got into a… **confrontation** with some of my fellow miners. Though the law required anyone that instigated a riot in the mines was to be terminated, my… supervisor was impressed I did not need a weapon to finish my enemies."_ Megatron sounded quite smug at that, lips curling to flash sharp fangs. However, they flattened to a frown as he continued, _"My master owed debts to the… **owners** of the Pits, and I was his payment."_

"Oh."

Jack didn't know how to respond to that. From the moment he was created, Megatron never had a choice. He was expected to do what he was told, whether he liked it or not, even if it meant dying for others' entertainment. The teenager could understand how that bitter resentment gave him the strength to break free of his chains and be the master of his own fate.

How could so many be _okay_ with it, for so _long_? Did the High Council not see the discontent of its citizens? Did the Prime not see his people were suffering? Jack swallowed, as he remembered the answer to that. Zeta Prime had spent most of his time locked away in his personal palace in the golden towers of Iacon. He rarely interacted with his people, and _never_ visited its lower castes. It was only when the gladiators rose in revolt, did they gain his attention. Only for Zeta Prime to send an army to squash the rebellion. He didn't expect Megatronus to fight back.

It was then another thought entered Jack's mind, one he had failed to consider when he awoke. He had been disoriented, filled with raw emotions, and now…

It took some time for the human to gather his courage again, asking meekly, _"Megatron… the Autobots."_ He stiffened when burning vermillion optics turned to him, but he forced himself to keep going. _"Did they… look for me?"_

Did Miko and Raf make it out, find their guardians? Did the Autobots search for their lost friend? Jack didn't expect Megatron to know the answer, or even care. The warlord was quiet for a few moments in thought.

 _"No,"_ the Decepticon finally answered. _"Soundwave has failed to detect any activity from them."_

It hurt. Jack didn't know why it hurt, but it did. Like Marcus had taken his vile knife and drove it into his heart. He knew he shouldn't be surprised. The Autobots were bound by the red tape of the US government. Besides, Arcee made it clear to him she never wanted to see him again.

Jack swallowed thickly, feeling that dark cycle of thoughts trying to creep into the forefront of his mind. He wanted it to go away.

" _C-can we go flying again?"_ he asked hesitantly.

Megatron looked down at him a moment more, then hummed. He scooped up his pet in his servo and stood, the sound of pulling wires filling the air. Jack blinked as the titan raised him higher, next to his pauldron. He met that crimson gaze, eyes widening. Megatron merely nodded.

Then carefully, hesitantly, Jack climbed from the safety of the titan's palm to his spiked shoulder. The metal was uneven, but sturdy. Jack clung to its sharp curves to stay in place as Megatron began moving again. They journeyed through the dark halls of the _Nemesis_ , but Jack's heart began to race with excitement to see the light.

Only when Megatron rounded a corner, the warlord came to an abrupt halt. Curious, Jack stirred, peeking out of his nest. Only to meet violet, compound optics.

Instantly the black walls around him vanished, replaced by the eerie shadows of a forest. When he had run for his life, from the monster that hunted him down like prey. It was only because of Acree he survived. But his guardian could not stop her from threatening after his family.

 _"What is it, Airachnid?"_ Megatron demanded in a grumble.

Jack wondered if his terror bled through the blood-bond. Airachind's wicked gaze shifted from the little human to her lord.

 _"Forgive me for my disturbance, my liege,"_ she murmured humbly. _"You did not answer my hails."_

 _"I was **busy**."_

If the Insecticon heard the dangerous tone, she did not pay it mind, instead continuing with her report.

 _"A Decepticon distress signal has been detected."_

Megatron seemed bored at the news, blinking slowly before hypothesizing, _"An Autobot trick?"_

 _"Perhaps,"_ Airachnid admitted, even nodding along, _"but unlikely."_

 _"Why is that?"_

 _"Because the signal has been identified as Dreadwing's."_

* * *

Wheeljack was having a bad day.

One of the twin engines of the _Jackhammer_ had gone out, and when he scrambled to correct his out-of-control spaceship, it was caught in a nearby planet's gravity. The stress was too great for the little vessel and its other engine went out. The _Jackhammer_ spiraled down to the brown and muddy surface of the planet in a fiery inferno. It was certainly one of the hardest crash-landings Wheeljack had in his life. And he had a lot of hard landings.

Now the Wrecker found himself in a scrap against a moody Decepticon. The same one that destroyed his _Jackhammer._ Wheeljack was nestled in the burning wreckage of his precious vessel, trying to avoid the energon fire raining down on him.

Gritting his denta, Wheeljack dared to raise himself above his shelter and fire back. There was a blur of blue as his opponent dashed away from the superheated bolts. He was making a dash toward the wicked remains of his own ship, the _Vengeance_ , but Wheeljack would not let him get away so easily.

He had traveled across the entire galaxy for this.

" _You got nowhere else to run, Dreadwing!"_ the Autobot roared.

Throwing caution to the wind, he leaped out of his cover, a small cylinder in his servo. His finger pressed against the detonator, and the deadly device let out a piercing ring. With a wicked smirk, Wheeljack rose the grenade high above his helm before tossing it with all his might. It didn't explode when it struck the black metal of the Decepticon vessel, but rather fell to the ground in a series of metallic _clinks_. It was the only warning that Dreadwing got, but he was not fast enough.

The night was filled with crimson light as a ball of flame erupted. The blast of the grenade caught the fuel tank of the ship, igniting the storage of energon in a mighty explosion. Wheeljack only laughed in triumph as the colemn of fire climbed into the night sky. _Finally!_ Vengeance _at last_! All those Autobots could rest in peace, now that their murderer was dead.

 _"No honor, just like the rest of your kind,"_ a cool, calm voice called out, ruining Wheeljack's victorious mood. _"You refuse to fight your opponent fairly."_

Wheeljack cursed. This was going to be long fight. Dreadwing must have hidden behind a piece of the wreckage, to protect him from the worst of the explosion. Not to mention the Decepticon had heavy armor to protect his frame. The Wrecker's armor bristled in rage as he watched a tall, dark figure step out of the inferno.

Dreadwing was bulky for a Seeker. Rather than a thin, flexible frame made for agility and flight, he was broad-shouldered and towered over the short and stocky Autobot. Broad, sleek wings extended from his back, twitching in the cool air. His armor was a deep blue, with gold touches lining the plating. The Decepticon shield was bold and broad across his chestplate, with golden bars extending from it to represent his high status of a commander of the Decepticon Aerial Corps.

Wheeljack let out a savage growl. _"You killed my friends! Now I'm going to make you pay!"_

Dreadwing smirked, cold and cruel. _"I am afraid not, foolish Autobot. Soon you will join them in the AllSpark!"_

Without warning, the Seeker reached behind his back, taking hold of his own weapon. In his claws was a massive cannon, so large and heavy he needed both servos to compensate its weight. The wicked barrel was aimed at Wheeljack, and the Autobot could hear the hum of its battery from across the clearing.

He instinctively flinched to move out of the way, but Dreadwing was faster. Wheeljack let out a wail as scorching heat struck his dorsal plating. The superheated energon melted his sturdy armor and vaporized some of the sensitive wires underneath. Plating automatically clamped down, trying to protect his sensitive protoform from further damage. Wheeljack's heels dug into the earth, trying to keep himself grounded in place. He was not going to fall so easily.

The Wrecker let out a savage growl of fury. He ducked away from the onslaught, unsheathing his twin swords from his back. With a harsh battle cry, charging forward. He leaped back and forth like a mech-deer, forcing his way through the volley of energon, even when some bolts dug into his armor.

With another scream, Wheeljack soared high into the air, raising his blades high above his helm. He fell back to the earth, bringing his weapons down on his prey. Only for a broadsword to clash against his swords.

There was a terrible metal on metal noise, sparks flying into the air. Wheeljack's momentum sent Dreadwing stumbling back, but the Decepticon dug his heels in to stay in place. The large Seeker proved to be stronger, giving the Wrecker a rough shove. The silver mech caught his balance and ducked, just managing to avoid getting decapitated from the Decepticon's monster sword.

Wheeljack took advantage of Dreadwing's open defenses, sending a flurry of slices at his chest. The Seeker hissed in pain, reeling back from his strikes. The Wrecker twisted his swords to bury it in his rival's spark, to finish their fight once and for all. Only when he did, Dreadwing twisted, planting a solid kick to his middle.

Wheeljack wheezed as he was sent back, skidding across the ground to come to a halt. He shifted back into a battle stance, braced to meet his opponent once again. Only when Dreadwing raised his massive cannon again, a deep, sinister roar came from the skies.

The Decepticon grinned and the Autobot groaned. His day couldn't get any _worse_.

Wheeljack glanced up, to see a titanic mass flying towards them at an impossible speed. Dread settled in his tanks. He recognized that ugly shape anywhere. His suspicions were confirmed, when silver glinted in the moonlight. Then the Cybertronian jet shifted.

Megatron landed square on his pedes with a deafening slam, the very earth shaking at the force of impact. The tyrant's deadly fangs gleamed menacingly, his hellish optics burning in the darkness. He confidently took a step forward, the stone cracking beneath his heavy weight. Wheeljack had seen the fiercest of warriors turn tail at the sight of the Decepticon leader, terrified for their lives. He was not one of those mechs.

 _"So the Big Guy finally got off his throne to come dance. I'm flattered,"_ the Wrecker quipped, crossing his swords in front of his battle-mask.

Megatron eyed him with a squinted gaze, as if he was trying to place the Autobot. _"Wheeljack… the one that likes explosive devices."_

 _"What can I say, chief? I'm uncouth."_

The dictator merely grumbled, but said nothing more. Instead, Megatron turned to Dreadwing. Instantly the Decepticon captain dropped to his knees, placing his right fist over his spark and bowed his helm low, not daring to meet his lord's optics. It filled Wheeljack with disgust and rage, that his opponent was so abruptly forgot they were in the heat of battle.

 _"Lord Megatron, I live to serve_ **,"** Dreadwing groveled.

 _"Rise, dear Dreadwing,"_ Megatron hummed. He hardly offered a glance. _"Loyalty such as yours is a rare commodity."_

 _"Mine runs deep and true. But it is not loyalty alone that has brought me here."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Even across the galaxy, I felt the demise of one whom I considered my brother. We shared the same spark—two halves of one whole."_ It was then Dreading's crimson optics flashed, the Seeker turning his heated glare towards Wheeljack. " _I seek to avenge the death of my twin, Skyquake."_

The Wrecker only smirked at the deadly tone, mocking the Decpeticon's rage. _"I wouldn't know anything about that, but if the Autobots did it, then I'm sure they had a pretty good reason."_

His response didn't seem to make Dreadwing any happier, the Seeker raising his cannon with a savage growl. _"And my revenge will start with you, Wrecker."_

 _"Swiftly,"_ Megatron merely ordered. _"I have other **things** to attend to."_

Dreadwing gave a wicked grin when the arrogant tyrant said the words, his cannon already letting out an eager hum to lay waste to his opponent. He never got the chance.

Without warning, little pellets assaulted Wheeljack's back, burying into white playing and vulnerable gaps. He yelled, more out of surprise than pain, clamping down his armor to protect delicate protoform. There were startled huffs from the Decepticons, accompanied by little _clinks_ , signaling they were receiving the same treatment. He whirled around, only to be greeted with a pack of little fleshlings—humans.

They were wearing odd mesh—an ugly green color—and pointed tiny black sticks at him. The sticks let out claps of thunder with a flash, sending the sharp projectiles into the baffled Wheeljack. Finally, the Wrecker realized they were _shooting_ at him.

 _"Well, that's not very friendly_ ," he muttered.

Didn't Bulkhead say the humans were their allies? Or were they so dense that they couldn't tell a Decepticon from an Autobot? A savage snarl interrupted him from his thoughts.

 _"Little pests,"_ Megatron growled, fangs bared. He lifted his mighty cannon, the barrel illuminated with a sinister violet as it let out a deadly hum.

Wheeljack thought he heard one of them squeal as the warlord trained it on the rude fleshlings, but it was too late. Megatron fired.

The bolts of energon buried into the ground at the humans' tiny pedes. They let out little screams as they were consumed in columns of dirt and fire, sending them flying in all directions. Those that weren't caught in the blast wailed in fright, scurrying out of sight, hiding behind a cluster of odd, little buildings. They were all made of either stone or metal, built in perfect geometrical shapes. Human architecture was _weird._

Suddenly a loud hum filled the air and the dark night was filled with bright colors. Wheeljack blinked and Dreadwing started, while Megatron only cocked an optic ridge. The Decepticon merely turned towards the opened groundbridge, looking bored more than anything.

Wheeljack realized what it was and grinned. _"Had a feeling the gang might show."_

Sure enough, the groundbridge flashed as multiple figures stepped into the moonlight. The Wrecker's spark pulsed with excitement at the sight of Bulkhead, along with Bumblebee, Ironhide, Mirage, and… Wheeljack's lips twitched at the sight of the Prime. Great, what was _he_ doing here?

As the Autobots stepped onto solid ground, there was a chorus of tiny shouts. Wheeljack glanced to see the humans had rallied again, this time yelling at the newcomers. They raised their weapons, and the Wrecker bristled. Fleshies just didn't learn-

"Hold your fire!"

Wheeljack blinked as the groundbridge flashed again, and a _human_ stepped out, dressed in the same strange mesh as the Wrecker's assaulters. It (Or he? It looked like a mech…) stormed toward the rude fleshlings with no fear, even as several shifted their focus towards him. He reached out towards the closest one, snatching the barrel of the gun and forcing it down.

"These our allies!" he shouted.

He turned, only for his organic optics to widen when he noticed the titanic frame of Megatron. The Autobots only growled at the sight of the warlord.. Cannons hummed to life, primed and ready, aiming at the diabolical dictator. Cool blue optics found seething seething red ones.

 _"Megatron!"_ Optimus Prime barked.

Dreadwing had turned his attention from Wheeljack to the newcomers. He even stepped in front of his lord, acting like an oversized shield. However, Megatron didn't even twitch during the entire event, only narrowing his optics as he scanned over the unexpected guests.

 _"Hmm, where is Arcee?"_ he asked, sounding almost curious. _"I was looking forward telling her how Jack is doing."_

Jack? Who was that? It didn't sound like the warlord was speaking of Wheeljack, as he hardly knew Arcee. Megatron certainly would not care to call him a nickname, especially one sounding so harsh and guttural. The Wrecker watched with confusion as plating rose and Ironhide let out a savage growl.

"What did you do you him, you miserable heap of scrap?!" the black mech roared, speaking English for whatever strange reason.

Megatron's fanged grin only widened, raising his chin high. He spoke in clear English, voice booming across the air so everyone present could hear. "Only what you Autobots _failed_ to do. I find it curious, Optimus, you preach so much to protect such _weak_ creatures, yet you are just as quick to abandon them."

The Autobot leader's optics narrowed. "I will never forsake our human allies."

"No, you grovel to them, even as they tear our kind apart."

Bulkhead let out a savage growl Wheeljack had only heard a handful of times. His servos transformed into deadly maces. "Oh, yeah? How about I tear _you_ apart?!"

He charged forward to wreck Megatron, only to be stopped by Optimus's extended servo. The Wrecker only slumped with disappointment while the Prime continued to glare at his rival.

"Whatever deceptions you are feeding Jackson, you will be stopped."

Wheeljack rolled his optics at the bickering leaders. Optimus was no better than Zeta. He talked a good game, but that was far as it went. When he got in the scrap, he didn't want to get his servos dirty.

 _Talking_ didn't solve anything. Fighting did. And both Decepticons—including Lord Buckethead himself—were right in front of Wheeljack, their backs turned to him.

 _"Scrap this,"_ the Wrecker muttered.

His twin swords reappeared in his servos, and he pounced.

Wheeljack closed the distance between him and the diabolical dictator in a flicker of an optic. He raised his blades to the Megatron's neck, to slice his ugly helm from his shoulders—

The Autobot gasped as suddenly something slammed into his torso, _hard_. His vents sputtered, forced shut as his plating caved inward. Blazing crimson optics and gleaming fangs flashed across his vision, as Megatron's fist drove into his chest.

Wheeljack thought he heard a shout, but he didn't know from who. Weightlessness seized his body as he sailed through the air, only to crash into the earth in a tangle of limbs. The Wrecker grunted as he skidded across the ground, leaving behind an ugly groove in the dirt, finally coming into a halt when he rammed into the side of a building.

The Autobot groaned as agony coursed through his struts. His engine sputtered and his vents wheezed-he realized something was broken. He flickered his broken vision, only to see a tall, menacing shape nearing him. The ground shuddered beneath him.

Wheeljack's vocalizer was filled with static as he spat in Cybertronian, _"Ugh, cheap shot."_

His vision focused, expecting to see Megatron standing over him, only to see the dark shape of Dreadwing. The Seeker looked deadly, optics arrowed into a murderous glare. Wheeljack heard a commotion, and he glanced over to see the Autobots had charged forwards to come to his air, only to run right into Megatron. The Champion weaved around them in a deadly dance, sword glimting dangerously in the moonlight. Those odd claps of thunder filled the air again, little bullets bouncing off Megatron's armor, some even ricocheting off onto the attacking Autobots.

There was a flash above Wheeljack, and his attention turned back to Dreadwing. That monster sword was in his claws, held above Wheeljack's neck. A wide, sinister smile spread across the Decepticon's lips.

 _"Now… to avenge my brother's demise."_

* * *

Jack fidgeted restlessly in Megatron's massive berth. He paced back and forth, clenching his fists by his sides. He cycled through the breathing exercises his mother had taught him, trying to stay calm, but his heart hammered against his chest. Almost every light was on, filling the room with an alien glow. At least he wasn't left alone in the darkness, but it hardly comforted him.

Something was going on. That much was obvious, when Jack saw Megatron blink in surprise when Airachnid mentioned that odd name: Dreadwing. The human had immediately peppered the tyrant with questions. Megatron answered in short answers until he finally gave in, telling that the Seeker was a commander under Starscream, and thought to be lost along with his brother Skyquake.

Still, Jack still didn't understand why the dictator dropped everything (or rather, the teenager clinging to his armor). He had promised it would not take long, and if it did, Soundwave would arrive to feed him another dosage of dark energon. As Megatron was the Decepticon leader, he was expected to greet any new arrivals, but Jack knew better. The warlord wasn't one to waste his time with such pleasantries.

Jack thought about it. _If the Decepticons detected that signal, then the Autobots can, too._

It explained why Megatron was in such a hurry, but not why he chose to go himself. He had an army—he could have sent scouts to secure Dreadwing. Unless he was looking for a fight.

The thought made Jack's stomach twist, and he didn't know why. Megatron said that the Autobots hadn't even bothered to look for him. The thought infuriated Jack, but… what of Arcee? He didn't want her to die, not because of him. He did not know what he wanted to hear when the tyrant finally returned.

Jack paced even longer, warring with himself, until his legs began to ache. Even though the dark energon had long healed his wounds, his muscles were still weak from his trauma and lack of use. He sighed. Maybe he could try to sleep, and Megatron would return by the time he woke up. It would be a good escape until then.

The teenager flopped down on the warm material of the berth, burying into his nest of blankets Megatron had gathered for him. He closed his eyes, ignoring his racing thoughts and hammering heart. He tried to silence the storm within him. Arcee was strong, she would be okay. Megatron would come back, and they could go flying again.

It was then a hiss whispered through the room.

Jack stirred.

That sounded like the hydraulic door opening. Sure enough, the teenager heard the soft click of the lock sliding back into place.

"Megatron?"

There was no reply, not much as a grunt or growl. Jack didn't even hear the warlord's heavy, rhythmic steps. The berth was utterly still.

He was hearing things. Whenever he tried to drift off into the embrace of sleep, he was tormented by ghostly sounds of the _Nemesis_. From the clanking of patrols outside the door, to the hiss of the ventilation systems, to the whirr of energon through the lines, and the distant hum of the great engines. That's what Jack told himself, as he laid his head back into the berth and closed his eyes.

Only for the clicking sound to continue. It wasn't a noise Jack heard before. It sounded like metal hitting metal in precise, quiet strikes. Was it Soundwave? The Decepticon was silent—the boy had hardly heard the communication officer make a sound, in the few times he had encountered Soundwave. Wait.

Soundwave was _silent_.

Jack's eyes opened at the realization and he shot up into a sitting position. He stared at darkness of the room, eyes trying to adjust to the gloom. He recognized the barren, empty space, void of furniture or a single silhouette. Only inky blackness greeted him—

Jack froze.

When had the lights turned off?

"S-Soundwave?" he called out, staring into the abyss to see any sign of the Decepticon.

Only for purple, compound optics to stare back at him.

"Hello, my dear Jack."

Jack screamed. Airachnid smiled.

The teenager tried to scramble away, as far from the Decepticon as possible, but his limbs were tangled in the blankets. He desperately tried to tear them away from his body, but his panic only twisted them even more. Suddenly a claw pierced the cocoon of cloth, pinning his leg to the berth. Jack yelped in pain and fright.

"Hush now, my dear, I will not hurt you," Airachnid purred, her sultry voice filled with false promise.

"Get away from me!" Jack screeched. He tried to yank himself free, but the Insecticon's grip did not relent. Airachnid only chuckled at his feeble struggles.

"Such a fighting spirit. And here I was afraid Megatron had beaten it out of you."

"Megatron didn't do _anything_ to me!"

"Oh? Then tell me Jack, wherever did you get those scars?

Jack flinched, violently, and he couldn't keep the tremor from his voice. "H-How did you know?"

Airachnid noticed, her smile widening. She took a single claw, and the teen leaned away, but there was nowhere to go. He hissed, muscles locking in place, as the sharp tip of the femme's finger dragged along the pale line across his cheek—not enough to draw blood, but the slightest twitch would kill him.

"Did you think I would not notice? Especially after Megatron halted all operations went into a fit, before the bridge of the ship no less. When he left so suddenly, I surely thought it had something do with Optimus, so imagine my surprise when he returned with _you_ instead."

Suddenly Airachnid crept closer, until her faceplates hovered over Jack's. The boy cringed and flinched away, sinking his back into the berth. "So tell me, little one, how did you come to Megatron's berth?"

Jack dared to glare up at those awful optics, seething through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the material beneath him. He tried to force away the onslaught of memories, of when he was under this wretched predator's claws. When she tried to kill him, his mother, Arcee.

Airachnid blinked. "Oh, you're shivering, little one!"

Was he? Jack tried to command his body to stop, only to flinch when suddenly servos began rubbing at his sides. He squirmed, but Airachnid's hold was firm.

"Do not fear, I will not hurt you, my sweet."

It was a lie. Jack knew it was a lie. The femme's tone was too sweet, too sickly. Airachnid was a sadist. She enjoyed the cries of other's pain, no more than a spider relished prey caught in its web.

"M-Megatron's coming b-back, you know."

"Hmm?"

"W-When he finds out about this, he'll k-kill you."

Jack fail to keep the stutter from his voice. This threat was softer than he meant it to be. Airachnid seemed to be drinking his fear like it was the finest of wines, her optics glowing brilliantly.

"Ah, yes, Megatron is always so possessive of his things. But do not fret."

Suddenly those frigid servos slid over Jack's chest and wrapped around his face, forcing him to look into those wicked optics. He shivered at the fangs lingering dangerously close to the delicate skin of his neck. Then Airachnid spoke in sinister, satisfied purr.

"Soon, there will be a future _without_ Megatron."


	20. Deceptions

Ice cold claws of terror wrapped around Jack's heart, the frigid sensation seeping into his veins and freezing every muscle in his body. He couldn't move, he couldn't fight back, he couldn't even scream. He could hardly think, as his mind froze on a single realization: Airachnid had come for him.

The monster that had haunted his nightmares for months. And she wanted... what? She… wanted to mutiny against Megatron? She wanted to _kill_ Megatron?

The realization stirred Jack from his rigid state. He pulled his lips back in a snarl and narrowed his eyes into a glare, even though he knew he didn't even look half as intimidating as Megatron.

"That's not going to happen," the teenager growled.

Those terrible claws within his chest dug deeper, as Airachnid merely smiled at his words.

"Oh, Jack," she drawled, like she was chiding him. "So brave, but so naïve." Suddenly her compound eyes brightened and her wicked smile broadened even further. "You will make the perfect pet."

It was then the icy claws struck home, and Jack's heart stopped. Wait… _what_?

But before the boy could even think, a dark shadow appeared behind Airachnid's helm. Suddenly there was a flicker of movement and the femme's optics went wide. A screech of protest assaulted Jack's hearing as the femme was yanked away from the human's view. With a gasp, he pulled himself free of his cocoon and scrambled to his feet. Only when he did, he froze as he was greeted with a tall, lithe figure.

Soundwave's back was to him, servo high above his helm, Airachnid trashing in his grasp. The Insecticon spat and hissed, fangs bared and claws digging into the surveillance chief's wrist. She jabbed her spiked appendages at him, only to strike air. Airachnid was smaller than Soundwave, but the Decepticon third-in-command was stronger than Jack thought, to hold the squirming femme with a single servo. He didn't even flinch at her desperate attempts.

The human stared, trying to decipher what was happening. Did… Did Soundwave just…

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched snarl. Something _hard_ rammed into his back, forcing him face-first onto the berth. He landed with a muffled grunt and when he tried to force himself up, he was greeted with a _heavy_ weight over him. Savage growls rumbled above him and when Jack glanced up, he froze when he saw wicked claws by his face. It was then he realized it was Ravage on top of him.

But symbiote wasn't snarling at him. From his odd angle from underneath the cybercat, Jack saw Ravage's fangs tilted towards Airachnid, audial fins flat on his helm. The human realized Ravage wasn't attacking him at all. Was the cassette... protecting him?

Finally, Soundwave grew bored of Airachnid's feeble attempts. With a flick of his wrist, the tall Decepticon flung the Insecticon across the room. There was a deafening clang as Airachnid slammed onto the floor with a sharp cry, sparks flying into the air. She skidded to a halt in a pitiful tangle of limbs, far from Megatron's berth.

With a deadly hiss, Airachnid untwisted her body, her extra limbs lifting her into the air. Jack flinched at her impossibly bright optics, burning with murderous malice.

 _"_ _How dare you! I am your commander!"_ the Decepticon second-in-command spat, once again speaking in Cybertronian in her rage. Of course, the mech gave no reply. It made Airachnid seethe, her armor rippling. _"Stand aside, Soundwave! You will resume your post!"_

Silence. Soundwave did not move, staying rooted to the floor between the Insection and Jack. The lack of response seemed to infuriate Airachnid.

With a screech, the predator pounced. The Insecticon closed the distance in a blink of an eye, swiping her appendages at Soundwave in a rapid flurry of attacks. Jack couldn't follow the blur of movement, but Soundwave could. The Decepticon shifted to meet every attack, raising his wing-blade arms to block Airachnid's strikes, all of them ricocheting off with a shower of sparks.

Each movement was methodical, flawless—as if Soundwave could see every move. While Airachnid managed to show her effort into kill her opponent, Soundwave just as easily showed there was no effort for him at all to deflect her assaults. Jack didn't know when the exchange finally ended. Either the silent Decepticon managed to hit back or Airachnid just got frustrated, the Insecticon suddenly rearing back from Soundwave. She landed back in her original spot, fangs bared and plating bristling to make her look twice her size.

 _"_ _I'll tear out your spark for that!"_ she snarled, claws already curling in anticipation.

Jack shivered at the venom dripping from her voice. Ravage growled, pressing the poor boy further into the berth. Soundwave did not flinch. The thin Decepticon merely stared at Airachnid, his faceless visor betraying no emotion.

Jack blinked. Wait—Soundwave was _thin_. There was no bulky armor wrapped around his frame, not even the broad piece of plating across his chest. Airachnid realized the same as he did. The Insecticon's compound optics went wide, letting out a hiss. Her helm whipped back and forth, trying to find the missing symbiote, when a shrill shriek filled the air.

Wings materialized out of the darkness and claws extended, Laserbeak's crimson optics glaring down at his prey. Superheated energon rained down the femme, provoking a furious scream. Airachnid tried to leap away from the onslaught, but she was not fast enough.

Bolts of energon dug into the gaps of her plating, burning the stabilizers of her additional limbs. The femme wailed as she fell into a helpless heap on the floor, curling in on herself defensively. Laserbeak hovered above her, letting out a series of squawks that suspiciously sounded like hysterical laughter. However, Soundwave was silent as he stalked over to the down huntress.

Airachnid shifted, trying to rise, only for a massive pede to slam on to her helm. Jack flinched at the harsh noise of metal on metal, swallowing up the femme's pained grunt. It was then another voice filled the air, quiet and slow, like an echo in a cave.

"Airachnid: trespassing." Suddenly Soundwave's pede pressed down, and Jack cringed at the groan of metal. "Human: Megatron's property. Airachnid: leave."

It was then Jack realized. That voice was _Soundwave._ He could _speak_?

The dark Decepticon lifted his pede, allowing Airachnid to wiggle free. She had to shift back to her bipedal mode, her appendages dangling uselessly from her back. She was bent low, avoiding meeting optics with Soundwave, as she stepped back. When Airachnid dared to look up, Jack's skin crawled as that terrible gaze bore into his. Then she was gone.

With a flash of movement and a hiss of the hydraulic door, Airachnid fled the room. Leaving Jack alone with Soundwave. The boy shivered against the warm berth, trying to digest what just happened.

Did… did Soundwave just _save_ him? He had _attacked_ Airachnid, who, by all technicality, was his superior. Yet he stood between her and Jack, like a solid, unmoving wall. Even now, the teenager felt Ravage's weight still pressing against him.

Jack was so busy trying to wrap his mind around the absurd concept, he did not notice the symbiote moving off of him. Before he could even feel relief at his newfound freedom, thin, careful servos wrapped around him. The boy squeaked as he was plucked into the air.

"H-Hey!" he cried, wiggling in Soundwave's grip as the Decepticon held him like an ice cream cone. He even struck the metal servo, but it was no use. "Put me down!"

Instead of complying, Soundwave shifted his hold on Jack, tucking the human in his wing-blade arms. The teenager let out another cry of protest, but that too was ignored as the Decepticon third-in-command carried him out of the darkness of Megatron's quarters.

* * *

"You're going down, Buckethead!"

Megatron's vision filled with a spiked mace as the big Wrecker, Bulkhead, sent the weapon towards the warlord's chest. Megatron to catch it with his palm, grinning with malicious delight as Bulkhead's optics widened. The heavy frame was built for brute force and hardiness, at the cost of speed and agility. Something the former Champion easily took advantage of.

Megatron twisted, dragging his prisoner along with him, and threw the Autobot to the ground with a terrible slam. Bulkhead could only moan in pain as he fell into stasis lock, defenseless. The former gladiator's sneer widened as he raised his cannon, the weapon letting out a sinister hum as it charged with power. Another Autobot to fall to his—

Suddenly sharp tendrils of fear pierced Megatron's spark. The Decepticon leader hissed, reeling back and gripping his helm as a wave of foreign thoughts invaded his mind. A sensation that was becoming all to familiar.

Jack's terror pouring through the bond, relentlessly assaulting Megatron's processor. What now? The warlord had ensured his pet was locked and secure in his quarters, safe. Had he left the boy alone too long? Was this another anxiety attack? Or a night terror? Why—

Megatron snarled as pain erupted from his helm. He stumbled back, digging his heels into the ground to keep his balance. He glanced up with a dark growl, only to be greeted with that arrogant weapons specialist, Ironhide.

Ironhide laughed. "Not so tough now, are you, Decepticon?"

Jack's fright still bled through the bond, and Megatron had to tighten his field to prevent the Autobots from detecting it. Last thing he needed was his enemies to get the wrong impression. He surely could not retreat, not in the midst of battle. Not only would it be unreasonable, but would be deemed cowardly. And Megatron was no coward.

So he put up a wall of useless data over the link, muffling the rude onslaught. It allowed the Decepticon leader to straighten to his full, intimidating height, just as Ironhide pounced again. Only for Megatron's claws to wrap around his throat.

The Autobot let out a strangled sound as his vents were forced shut, blunt servos instinctively reaching up to rip at Megatron's wrist. The tyrant merely smiled at Ironhide's feeble attempts, lifting the warrior high into the air.

"Tougher than you, Autobot."

With that, the titan spun around, throwing his catch into a charging Bumblebee. The pair of victims let out wails as they fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. In the corner of his vision, the warlord saw Dreadwing stalking towards Wheeljack to finish his prey. The Wrecker was rendered motionless by the large dent in his chest, unable to defend himself as the Seeker raised his broadsword. Megatron smirked, triumphant. Victory was theirs—

His grin vanished when an irritating ping came from his com-link. Why was Soundwave contacting him _now_ of all times?

His third-in-command knew better than to pester his leader while in the field. Still sensing fear whispering across the bond, Megatron recalled the orders he had given Soundwave. Was it Jack? Before the Decepticon leader could answer the hail, an EM field brushed against his, hot and crackling with violent intent.

With impossible agility, Megatron spun on his heels and raised his sword, just in time to meet Optimus Prime's blade. The Guardian Knight pushed forward, but the former Champion held his ground, so that they stood optic-to-optic.

"You accept we are enemies, Optimus, yet you still fail to see humans for what they are," Megatron growled. "Wretched, nefarious creatures. You have seen how easily they turn on each other. How long until your dear 'allies' betray you?"

Optimus's optics narrowed. "It is not my place to not decide the fate of another species."

"They don't deserve to live."

"Then my Autobots will fight to defend the humans from your tyranny."

Megatron grinned wickedly. "Young Jackson seems to think otherwise."

The Decepticon leader felt his rival stiffen at that, and he took his chance. He twisted his sword, forcing the Prime's blade down, leaving his chest exposed. Megatron sent a kick into Optimus's torso, the Autobot leader letting out a grunt as he was sent skidding across the ground.

Megatron laughed as the humans scurried out of the Prime's way, the large mech coming to an uncomfortable halt beside them. One fleshling dared to approach the fallen Optimus—their commander—what was it? Lennox?

"Optimus, get up!" the insect barked, as if the mighty leader was one of his subordinates.

It made Megatron curl his lip in disgust. At least Jack _knew_ his place. A pet, dependent on his master's will. The warlord _needed_ to return to his human. He had five Autobots at his mercy—he could be done with this and—

Megatron stopped when he realized. He scanned his surroundings again, only to confirm his suspicions. He could only count five Autobots. Including Wheeljack, there was supposed to be _six_. Abandoning the downed Optimus, the Decepticon leader extended his scan as he quickly ran through his memory files. He was missing an Autobot—which one? _Where was he_?

And then Megatron remembered.

The Special Operations officer. Jazz's top subordinate. A clever, crafty little spy. _Mirage_.

The tyrant whirled around, only to see the air beside Dreadwing shift, rippling like a wave. The Seeker captain did not notice, his glare boring into his prey. Megatron opened his mouth to shout a warning to the unsuspecting Dreadwing. It was too late.

The crimson-armored Mirage appeared beside the Decepticon, raising his dual daggers to meet the large mech's sword. There was a resounding clash of metal on metal, grating Megatron's audios even at such a distance. Dreadwing's optics widened and Mirage smirked.

"Not today, Decepti-creep," the Autobot taunted.

Before Megatron or Dreadwing could even react, the Special Ops agent shoved against his opponent, batting aside Dreadwing's sword. With agility defying his frame, Mirage twisted and planted a kick to the Seeker's torso, sending him flying. Leaving Wheeljack online. Annoying little Autobots.

Another ring pierced the titan's audio receptors—more persistent than the first. The Decepticon leader growled in rage and answered, _"Soundwave, what_ is _it?"_

His third-in-command didn't even seem to notice the furious tone. Instead, he went on with his report as slowly and calmly as his broken voice allowed, as if his master was not in the midst of war. Soundwave even included audio and visual surveillance, sending the files over in a burst of data. However, Megatron's processor was only able to register one thing.

Jack was _attacked_.

The warlord lowered his weapon, deliberately calm. His shout was terrifyingly even.

 _"_ _Dreadwing!"_

The Seeker was crouched on the ground, clutching the dent in his side in pain. However, upon hearing his lord's hail, his helm perked up, awaiting his command.

 _"_ _We are leaving."_

As always, the loyal Decepticon did not question his master's command. He merely dipped his helm as he hummed, _"As you wish."_

It was then a clap of thunder echoed through the night. Megatron tilted his gaze to the sky, only to find it perfectly clear, the moon still shining brilliantly. Another roar, louder than the first, hanging in the air for several more kliks. The warlord recognized that sound.

The engine of a flyer. But it was not one of his.

Megatron narrowed his optics at the dark shapes that appeared from the darkness. They came closer and closer—moving fast. They almost looked like Seekers—sleek frame, thin wings, and powerful thrusters. But Seekers were not so _loud_. Apparently the humans could not completely replicate the flyers' elite aerobatics, when they _stole_ their designs.

"Oh, what the hell?" Lennox wailed, loud enough Megatron could detect his words. "Epps, _please_ tell me you called in the rain."

The Decepticon did not hear the said human's reply, but he assumed the answer. He couldn't care less. Regardless how the flyers were summoned, they would fall all the same. Megatron took aim.

"Megatron, no!" Optimus roared, the Prime scrambling back to his pedes, but his heavy frame was too slow.

The titan fired. While a Seeker would instantly swerve to avoid the bolt of energon, the human pilot had no time to react. The flyer erupted in a ball of flame, with such force it was knocked to the side—right into another jet. They clashed with a horrible noise and the rest of squadron splintered as each flyer veered away, trying to escape the resulting explosion. The jets fell together in a fiery inferno, crashing into the earth and sending smoke and dirt in all directions.

The ground reverberated, sending humans stumbling with startled squawks. The Autobots stepped away from the wreckage, staring in frozen shock. It allowed Dreadwing to move forward, focusing one of the flyers as it flew over him. Megatron waited patiently as he scanned the vehicle.

The Seeker commander smiled. _"Air superiority achieved."_

With that, he transformed into a human flyer and took to the skies. He moved too quickly for the Autobots to respond, and Optimus could only narrow his gaze as his query vanished into the night. Normally Megatron would laugh, but he merely offered a smirk as he gave one final taunt.

"It would seem my new pet requires my immediate attention." It was the truth. Jack's terror was still cascading over the bond. "I will be sure to tell Jackson how his treasured _partner_ came to fight for him."

As confusing and illogical as it was, human sarcasm had its advantages. Megatron almost wanted to savor Optimus's aghast expression, but he did not have that luxury. He transformed into a mighty flyer and activated his thrusters to full power, heading towards the _Nemesis._

* * *

Jack couldn't stop shivering, and he didn't know why. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing was short and shallow. Whatever logic the boy had left realized he was having a panic attack, but he couldn't find himself to care. Where was Airachnid? Where was Megatron? Where was Soundwave _taking_ him?

The silent Decepticon seemed oblivious to his distress, striding down the dark hallways in a slow, controlled stride. Ravage stalked by his master's side, occasionally strutting ahead only to turn around and resume his post, almost like he was checking if the coast was clear. It was hardly a problem.

The drones gave a wide berth at Soundwave's presence, almost as if they were trying to avoid brushing fields with the spymaster. Apparently Autobots were not the only ones that feared Soundwave.

Eventually they came to a solid door. Soundwave did not shift his hold on Jack or reach for an access panel. But he must have sent a signal or something, because the doors moved to the side with a hiss and the surveillance chief calmly stepped through. Jack gasped.

The room was huge—two times, no _three_ times larger than Megatron's personal quarters. Screens covered the entire walls—each one showing a different image… of Earth? There were pictures of entire continents, taken from satellites from orbit, to live feed of traffic cameras, watching humans and their cars move back and forth. Jack's stomach twisted when he saw pictures of military bases, filled with armored vehicles and stiff, uniformed soldiers.

Why… why did Soundwave need all this? Why did he bring the boy here? Jack didn't have the courage to ask. He had escaped one mad Decepticon only to be kidnapped by another.

Suddenly the arms retracted, and the teenager stiffened as he was placed on a smooth, metal surface. Jack found himself perched on one of the many consoles filling the room, and his anxiety grew when he realized he was trapped. The only way to get off was a two-story drop onto solid metal, and there was no way to climb down. Even if by some miracle Jack was able to escape Soundwave's grasp, he eyed several other drones patrolling the room, a couple of them eying him curiously. There was no way he could make it to the door without being caught.

The human was jostled from his thoughts as he heard a click from somehere. Jack warily watched as Soundwave's chest parted and he subspaced a tiny object, pinching it between his fingers. It was one of the canister's Megatron used to feed him—

 _Oh._

So that's why Soundwave kidnapped him. He would always follow his lord's orders. The third-in-command held it in front of Jack's face, almost like an offering. Slowly, hesitantly, the boy took it. His skin was already tingling again and his stomach knotted, and this time he didn't know if it was hunger or nerves.

Trying to ignore Soundwave's inscrutable stare, Jack guzzled the dark energon so fast his stomach twisted in protest. Only Megatron had fed him dark energon, having another—

Jack froze at the absurd thought. _Only_ Megatron. Throughout the summer, the tyrant would ignore him for days, only to sneak into the night, with the excuse to give him another dosage. And now, the Decepticon lord replaced his three organic meals a day to three rations of dark energon. And it _always_ came from _him_. Like Jack was some—

 _"_ _You will make a perfect pet."_

He shuddered as Airachnid's words echoed through his mind. Jack wasn't a fool, he knew Megatron had a sick, twisted obsession over him. But he wasn't some kid, and he certainly wasn't a toy. He was more than that—

His thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of the hydraulic door. Instinctively the human flinched, but his muscles relaxed without permission as the world shook in slow, rhythmic motions. He glanced up, only to be greeted with burning crimson optics.

Before Jack could offer a half-hearted greeting, Megatron scooped him up in his long claws. The boy squeaked in surprise, only for the sound to be smothered when he found himself pressed against the titan's broad chest. It wasn't a hug. As an asexual species, Cybertronians didn't have the same affectionate nature as humans. Jack felt no love or warmth through the bond. Instead he sensed smothering possessiveness. Like a child who found his favorite toy after it was taken from him.

Jack tried to squirm free, stammering a reassurance in a low voice, "Megatron, I'm—"

"Quiet."

The boy clipped his mouth shut. He did not even dare to speak as Megatron began to brush his claws along his back, much like Soundwave had done. But rather than careful and gentle, his touch was deliberate and firm. For a moment Jack wondered if the metal giant would accidently break him. They stayed that way for several long moments, until Megatron broke the silence, but he was not speaking to his pet.

"Remind me of Airachnid's trustworthiness," he ordered Soundwave.

Jack had almost forgotten the surveillance chief was still present, standing beside them like a silent specter. The boy shivered as the Insecticon's sultry voice echoed through the room.

 _"_ _Soon, there will be a future without Megatron."_

The Decepticon leader growled at the blasphemous words, the metal around Jack reverberating at the harsh noise.

"So _that's_ how it is."

Jack saw a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, and when he glanced over, he was greeted with a mech he never met before. He was wasn't as big as Megatron, but his huge frame took up almost the entire door way. Red optics bore into Jack, and the human couldn't tell if it was curious or predatory. Was this Dreadwing?

Megatron hardly seemed concerned about the newcomer's presence, returning the human back to his spot. He then moved away, clasping sharp talons behind his back. There was a long, tense moment of silence.

Jack could practically see the gears turning in his helm and the data flying through his processor, as he calculated every possibility, every scheme. Finally, Megatron came to a decision.

"So it seems Airachnid has become far too comfortable with her position," the Decepticon lord rumbled. He glanced over his shoulder at Soundwave. Like Jack didn't even exist. "It is time to remind her how _easily_ it can be lost."

Jack's skin crawled at the deadly purr, understanding the true meaning of that statement all too well. Soundwave merely nodded, like his master was giving him another order to obey. Not like they were plotting to assassinate one of their own.

 _"_ _Dreadwing,"_ Megatron called in Cybertronian, his voice dangerously calm. _"I wish for you assist me with a task."_

 _"_ _I am at your beck and call, my lord,"_ Dreadwing hummed, stepping forward and crossing his fist over his spark in salute.

 _"_ _Let us see if you can prove yourself worthy of becoming my first lieutenant."_

The Seeker blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer.

 _"_ _What of Airachnid?"_ the Decepticon captain asked.

 _"_ _She will hardly be missed."_

Jack bit the inside of the cheek, trying to prevent himself from speaking. Did Megatron want to kill Airachnid for defying him? Or was this simply how he chose all his lieutenants, by ordering them to kill each other? Or was it both? The human knew he needed to be silent, or else these giants would stomp on him in their struggle for power.

 _"_ _Airachnid is a skilled adversary,"_ Dreadwing spoke. _"She will not be easily terminated."_

 _"_ _Which is why it is important that we do not allow her to know something is amiss. And we must ensure that she_ _ **will not**_ _escape."_

 _"_ _Trapping her on the ship will be suitable enough—"_

 _"_ _No,"_ Megatron interrupted with a shake of his head. He fixed the Seeker with a serious look. _"Airachnid knows these halls by now, and you have only just arrived onboard. And once she discovers she has been deceived, she will steal an escape vessel or a groundbridge, if she doesn't steal the_ Nemesis _itself."_

 _"_ _Then what do you recommend?"_

At that, the Decepticon leader turned to Soundwave. The third-in-command did not miss his cue, his visor flickering to life. It looked like a map, with Cybertronian script scrawled over it. Jack didn't understand it, but Megatron did.

 _"_ _We have recently acquired a fresh source of energon,"_ the titan explained. _"One of Airachnid's duties as first lieutenant is to make preparations for the mine. She will be underground for some time. It will be close quarters, there will be no available escaped routes, and she will have no aid."_ Megatron looked back to Dreadwing. _"Airachnid will reach_ _ **rock bottom**_ _."_

Jack found his hands curling into fists, reminded of what started this whole mess to begin with. It was an echo of what the warlord said to Starscream, just before he chose to execute him treacherous second-in-command. But instead of Starscream, the Decepticon lord had trapped Jack instead.

" _Then the task will be done, my lord,"_ Dreadwing hummed, ducking his head in a bow.

 _"_ _I suggest we bring back-up,"_ Megatron offered. _"She can be quite a handful, especially when cornered."_

An image of Knock Out flashed across Soundwave's visor, followed by Breakdown. The tyrant seemed pleased by the choice.

 _"_ _Inform them they are to arrive at the mine immediately,"_ he ordered. _"They will keep Airachnid..._ _ **preoccupied**_."

 _"_ _And what of the fleshling?"_

Jack started at the change of subject. He was suddenly aware of three burning gazes boring into him, and he wanted to shrink into a hole. He met Megatron's gaze, but the warlord betrayed no emotion.

 _"_ _He will remain with Soundwave,"_ the dictator decided.

"What?!" Jack blurted. After everything that had happened, he hardly cared about Megatron's rules. "What about—"

"Hush." It was the second time Megatron shushed him, and once again the boy did not dare defy him. "As we discovered my quarters can no longer be deemed secure, you will be stay within the communications room. Where you will remain under constant surveillance."

Jack wouldn't admit it, but he could see the titan's argument. The tyrant's personal quarters were only guarded with a locked door, something Airachnid had no trouble dealing with. The communications hub, however, was always filled with vigilant Decepticon troopers. Along with Soundwave himself

Still, Jack shifted his weight at the thought of being left alone with the ominous Decepticon for so long. He hardly knew anything about Soundwave. He had only met him a handful of times, and it was _never_ under pleasant circumstances. Judging how _both_ Autobots and Decepticons feared him, Jack didn't want to know. Especially considering he remembered Bulkhead once commented he would never share a room with the spymaster. Now Jack didn't know how long he would be under Soundwave's watchful stare.

"Just… don't be long, okay?" the teenager whined.

"Do not fear, my child," Megatron rumbled. The metal titan reached out with a single claw, rubbing against Jack's cheek in a gentle caress. "Soundwave is the only one I trust."


	21. Along Came a Spider

**Hey, everyone! Well, this chapter was supposed to be finished a long time ago, but stuff got in the way. So to make up for it, a little longer than normal, as I didn't want to break it up. Bit of world-building in this one, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Jack couldn't sleep.

He shifted back and forth in the blanket cocooned around him, but he couldn't find a comfortable position on the hard surface of the monitoring station. Unlike the utter silence of Megatron's quarters, the communications hub was alive with noise. The heavy pedes of drones, the constant tapping of claws on consoles, and occasionally the audio of a hijacked frequency. Jack would try to tune out the sounds and close his eyes, only for them to snap open without his consent. Almost every time he did, he would be greeted with a crimson gaze boring into him.

"When Megatron said to keep an eye on me, Laserbeak, I don't think he meant it literally," Jack mumbled.

The little flyer chirped at him, but did not abandon his post, which happened to be a railing overlooking the boy. With his critical optics and crooked beak, the symbiote almost looked like a vulture. Unsettling was one way to describe it.

Jack tried to ignore his surroundings, tentatively reaching through the blood-bond. Just like the last eight times he had tried, he was met with a solid wall. Megatron had closed their mental link again, leaving the human's mind strangely silent. He knew he should be relieved, but after several days of feeling the brush another's thoughts, it only made him even more anxious.

Especially considering what the Decepticon lord was doing. He remembered how easily Megatron had spoken of assassinating Airachnid, no different that when he spoke to Starscream during his execution. How easily he replaced one second-in-command with another. What did that mean, then? How easy would it be for Megatron to replace—

Jack's morbid thoughts were interrupted by a metallic, almost shrill voice. One he recognized immediately.

"Hey, fleshie."

Great. As if his day couldn't get worse. The teenager curled into his blanket, closing his eyes and feigning sleep. Maybe if Jack ignored him, he would grow bored and go away. Only he heard metal pedes shuffle closer.

"Yo, Jackie-boy."

Nope. He didn't deserve a reply. It was then a sharp finger poked the top of Jack's head.

"Anyone in there? Hellooooo?"

The army brat groaned and swatted the rude servo away. "Leave me alone, Rumble."

"What do you know, he is alive!"

With a reluctant moan, the teenager opened his eyes. By Cybertronian standards, Rumble was _small_ , only about the same size as Jack. His growth had been stunted when he formed the bond to become a symbiote, in order to properly dock to his host. It was his size that made him ideal for surveillance.

Rumble's tiny, thin frame let him slip into places larger Decepticons could not, and hide where Autobots could not reach. Not to mention it made him that much harder to notice. However, if Rumble wanted attention, he had no problem getting it, as his voice made up for his size.

"I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Rumble rambled, leaning uncomfortably close. "You know when the last time I got a good nap, fleshbag?"

Jack just cocked an eyebrow, not really understanding where the Decepticon was going with this, and unsure if he was expecting an answer. He had no desire to speak with the symbiote, anyway. His last encounter with Rumble had not been under favorable circumstances.

Arcee had rescued him from his prison on the _Nemesis_ while the massive warship was docked in China. The pair had fled to the American embassy, hoping the alien invaders wouldn't think to look there. They were wrong. Rumble and his fellow symbiotes had been charged to dragging Jack back to Megatron, and almost killed the fragile human in the process.

"Uh…" he tried, but Rumble didn't give him the chance to give a proper reply.

" _Never_!" The Decepticon jabbed a clawed finger at the human's face and Jack had to jump back to save his eye from being skewered. "So here I was, having the best nap I _ever_ had, and you know what happens? The Boss says I have a _mission_. Next thing I know, I'm being tossed in the cold, and I'm being told I have to find an insect. _One_ , out of several billion. And let me tell you, fleshie, I had to look _everywhere_ for you."

Rumble gave him an accusing glare, and Jack was still trying to process what he was saying. Soundwave had sent his symbiotes to find _him_? He remembered Megatron had explained he had found the human only because of his surveillance chief's resources, but he never thought about that Soundwave would actually send out his pets.

"Um… sorry?" Jack offered hesitantly.

" _Mmhmm_!" Somehow Rumble managed to fill a simple hum with bitter poison. He crossed his arms in a huff, an oddly human gesture. "So, you tell me, what is so special about you?"

"Beats me."

Rumble grumbled, clearly not satisfied with such an answer. "You think he would take something a bit smarter as a pet."

Jack frowned at the blunt statement. "You mean something other than me?"

" _Exactly!_ Why a _human_? They're so smelly, dirty, and uuugly! Oh, don't forget—

" _I get it_ ," the poor boy snapped, rolling his eyes. "You don't like humans."

"Who _doesn't_? You think Megation would, after that whole ice cube debacle. And what happened to Frenzy!"

Jack made a face. "Frenzy? Who's that?"

He instantly regretted asking. Rumble made a scandalized wail and his optics went wide and bright.

"Oh, I guess they wouldn't tell you, would they? Nobody cares about the little guy!"

So caught off guard by the sudden anger filling Rumble's words, it took a moment for Jack to translate his words. Little? As in—

"Is he another symbiote?"

How many did Soundwave have?! Jack quickly scanned the room for another pair of tiny, watchful optics, but found none. Laserbeak was still perched above him, Ravage had disappeared into the bowels of the ship, and Ratbat was docked to Soundwave's torso. His search was interrupted by Rumble's yell.

"He _was_ my twin!"

Jack blinked. The Decepticon was speaking in English, but the teenager wondered if Rumble mistranslated.

"...Your twin?" he repeated lamely.

The human had no idea how Cybertronians reproduced, and he had no desire to ask such an intimate question. But he never heard of a Transformer having a sibling, or any relative for that matter, except for their brothers-in-arms. Yet Rumble was saying he had a _twin._

The little 'Con must have read either Jack's dumbfounded expression or his mind, as he let out an exasperated groan. "Do you humans know anything? Didn't you meet Dreadwing? He and Skyquake look _exactly_ alike!"

"Er…"

Jack vaguely remember that name, Skyquake. He was a Decepticon Starscream attempted to recruit, only to be killed in a fight against the Autobots. The army brat had never _seen_ Skyquake, though, and he didn't have a chance to observe with Dreadwing.

"...He must have been before my time," Jack shrugged.

Rumble rolled his optics. "Ugh, figures."

"So… Frenzy is— _was_ your brother?"

"Blech. You make it sound so human saying it like that. We shared more that good looks and blood, you know."

"Then—"

"We shared a _spark_. Two halves, one whole. We had a stronger bond than even with the Boss. I felt everything he felt. I felt it when those filthy humans tore into his—"

Suddenly Rumble cut off as he let out a keen—an odd, metallic noise, that almost sounded like a rusted gate. His claws reached over his own chest, scratching at the plating above his spark. A single tremor coursed through Rumble, and Jack's stomach twisted. It was obvious what the twin had felt.

Rumble looked away, optics dimmed and unfocused. His shoulders slumped as he hunched over. The armor he had been flaring proudly was pressed against vulnerable protoform. Suddenly Jack didn't see a Decepticon. He saw someone who had lost their family. Their whole world.

Just like Jack.

He still remembered that horrible day, when he was told that his father wasn't coming home. Did he look like Rumble, as he watched the earth swallow up his loved one forever?

The Autobots told him so many horrible stories, how the Decepticons murdered their comrades, razed entire cities, and desecrated their world. He never considered the Decepticons had the same stories.

The army brat swallowed, not knowing what to say. He doubted Rumble would accept the pity, and he knew condolences didn't bring them back. Jack shivered.

 _Do you see now?_

It was then the boy was aware of a silent shadow looming over the pair. With a gasp, he twisted to look over his shoulder, only to see his reflection staring back at him. When had Soundwave approached them? Only a moment ago, the surveillance chief was engrossed in his work.

He should have known. Soundwave saw and heard all. He saw how the Autobots had slaughtered Decepticons and how the humans tore them apart. He heard his fellow gladiators' cries and Frenzy's—

Jack cringed as a ghostly scream echoed through his mind. He slapped his palms over his ears, even though he realized there was no real sound. "Stop that."

For so long, he had accused the Decepticons of being monsters, but there were no monsters. Only winners and losers.

The human furiously shook his head, trying to get rid of the invasive thoughts. Were they even invasive? They sounded so much like his own…

"So how do you win, Soundwave?" Jack snarled out, still clutching his tormented head. "By controlling other people's minds?"

Most Cybertronians had firewalls to guard the valuable secrets of their processor. Soundwave would have to hack and override their systems to manipulate the data within, and that was always a dangerous game. Humans' brains were made of flesh and neurons, but were strikingly similar to a Cybertronian's. The electrical pulses within were easy to play with, and there was no firewall in Soundwave's way.

"You're an aft," Jack huffed, curling into his blanket to fight the cold touch of the Decepticon's mind.

No, Soundwave was a _Champion_. Jack realized the ghostly words were an echo of what the Decepticon had "spoken" to him in Paris. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"You were the Champion of Polyhex," the teenager recalled. "Until the Council betrayed you."

Rumble let out a grumpy growl behind him. "Lying jerks! The Master _promised._ One more match, and we were done."

 _Master?_ Jack wondered. _Who was—_

Realization dawned on him, which was probably Soundwave's doing. Oh. Gladiators served the will of the upper castes. They had no freedom.

"But they promised _you_ freedom," Jack concluded.

Affirmative, Soundwave answered. All he needed to do was best another Champion, and prove he could not be defeated.

"Who was that?"

Lord Megatron.

It took a long moment for the human to register the name, even it was one he knew almost as well as his own. Only when he did, his eyes went impossibly wide and his mouth fell open.

"Y-you _fought_ Megatron?" Jack gasped, and stopped himself from saying, _And you survived?_

Soundwave only nodded and the boy tried to wrap his head around the idea. Not _once_ had _anyone_ spoken of how Soundwave and Megatron, two victorious Champions, were pitted against each other. And yet Megatron always boasted about his days of a gladiator, how _no one_ managed to defeat him.

Jack realized, "…He beat you, didn't he?"

Negative.

The teen's eyes somehow widened even further. "Then if you won—"

Negative.

Now Jack was just confused. If Soundwave was saying he didn't win or lose the match, but that didn't make sense, unless… It was a draw.

Soundwave nodded. It was meant to a battle to the death. They had traded many blows, but neither of them could deliver the fatal one. It took a very long time, each driven by the roar of the crowd and their vehement desire for freedom. Their precise and calculated movements had turned clumsy and sloppy, so when Megatron drove his sword into Soundwave's chest, he missed the spark chamber. Likewise, when Soundwave sent a pulse of electricity through his opponent, he only had enough energy to force him into stasis lock.

Neither had died, and neither had won.

"The Master said the match didn't count," Rumble explained, likely hearing his host's thought over the bond. While the onslaught of gruesome images left Jack shivering madly, the symbiote's optics were burning with rage. "So there was no deal. Lousy cheat…"

"But I don't understand," Jack whispered. He dared to look up at Soundwave, trying not to flinch at his optic-less stare. "How could you work for Megatron, after he wanted to kill you?"

Megatron did not _want_ to kill Soundwave. He was forced to, like so many other gladiators, all for another's entertainment. So one day they could be released from their chains. But Megatron did not fight just for his own freedom, but for _all_ of those that were suppressed by the High Council's tyranny.

"But because of him you were stuck," Jack argued.

Only because of the corrupted system that kept the gladiatorial pits alive.

"And didn't the Council see anything _wrong_ with that?"

Of course not. As long as Master could keep his pet.

Jack didn't understand. "What are you saying? Who… who was he?"

Soundwave tilted his helm, then, so the human could see clear image of himself, his face twisted in confusion. Jack didn't hear a whisper in his mind this time, as Soundwave spoke in his deep, chilling voice.

"Soundwave's master: Zeta Prime."

* * *

Everything was according to plan.

Megatron sent a message to Knock Out, placing him in charge of transporting the energon from the mine to the _Nemesis_ 's storage. He sent another to Breakdown, instructing him to place security around the facility to guard it from any Autobot attacks. The Decepticon leader also sent encrypted data to each, detailing their _real_ mission.

Dreadwing volunteered he would go on patrol, to adjust to his new alt mode and learn the terrain of the planet. Megatron gave him stern instructions not to draw any attention, and that he would join the Seeker soon. Then they would travel to the mine together.

Airachnid was none the wiser. Suspicious, no doubt, but she was eager to escape the confines of the ship, if it meant escaping the warlord's wrath. Or so she thought.

Torrents of rain fell from the heavens, pounding Megatron's wings. Harsh winds swirled around him, roaring like a vicious beast. Occasionally white, brilliant light illuminated the darkened night as electrical discharge—or lightning, as the humans called it—crackled across the sky. The violent weather hardly impaired his flight.

The Cybertronian jet weaved through the guarding mountains with ease. No human would attempt such a thing, as no fleshling eyes could see through such conditions, but Megatron did not depend on his optics alone. He detected movement on the edge of his sensors, and he extended his field to brush another's.

Dreadwing came to his side, respectively dipping to a lower altitude than the Decepticon lord. The captain's voice drifted over the comms.

 _"_ _According to Knock Out, Airachnid is currently on sight,"_ he reported.

 _"_ _Good,"_ Megatron purred. _"Come, Dreadwing. Let us go squash an insect."_

Without waiting for a reply, the flyer moved ahead in a burst of speed. The mine was located deep within the mountains, though Megatron doubted it was really meant to be there. After millions of years, the shifting of tectonic plates had displaced entire storages of energon. At least this cache was far from prying human eyes, and far from anywhere Airachnid could hide.

Even though, Megatron was surprised there were no guards to greet them. The pair of flyers transformed to land on solid ground, right before the mine entrance. The surrounding trees had been cleared for the operation, yet there wasn't a single trooper or a piece of equipment in sight. It was Dreadwing that spoke first.

 _"_ _Odd,"_ he rumbled, looking quite suspicious. _"Airachnid was heading operations, was she not?"_

 _"_ _She was_ _ **supposed**_ _to be,"_ Megatron growled, stalking forward.

The mine entrance was large enough for even he to walk in, Dreadwing trailing behind. The soil was still soft, freshly disturbed from the drillers. Unfiltered energy tickled the Decepticon leader's field, and sure enough, he gazed around to find clumps of cerulean crystals. Had they not even _started_ harvesting the energon?

Megatron bared his fangs in frustration. His instructions to Knock Out and Breakdown were _clear_. They were to keep Airachnid _busy_. At least long enough for the dictator could get some final use out of his second-in-command, before executing her for being a scheming spider.

Suddenly a sharp noise echoed through the tunnel, making both Decepticon freeze and instinctively raise their claws. Megatron heard a series of high-pitched shrieks of protest and _clangs_ of metal on metal. There was the awful sound of something shattering—either equipment or a fragile formation of energon. Accompanying the violent noises were the barks of Cybertronian curses, but the warlord could not decipher the voices through the melody of chaos.

However, the conclusion was clear: Airachnid had discovered the plot.

Silently, Megatron unsheathed his sword. Dreadwing followed his example, removing his broad blade from his back. The captain shifted into a battle stance, armor clamping down defensively. He stayed on Megatron's heels as the former Champion stalked forward. If Airachnid was preoccupied with her opponents, then she would not be expecting him. He needed to be swift, while he still had the element of surprise.

He paused, at the corner just around the source of the sound. It sounded like a nasty fight. Megatron took his chance. He leaped into the open cavern, his cannon primed and ready. Only for the warlord to freeze at the sight that greeted him.

Breakdown lay on his front of the ground, covered in dirt and dents and energon. With Knock Out on top of him, expertly straddling his weight on his assistant as he repeatedly slammed the Decepticon's faceplates into the stone floor.

"Say it! _Say it_!" Knockout was demanding, though Megatron highly doubted Breakdown was in position to say anything, with grovel in his intake.

Finally, the Decepticon managed to keep his helm up long enough to snap a retort, "Not when this is _your_ fault!"

Using his superior strength, Breakdown rose and twisted in the same motion, violently bucking Knock Out off. Before the senior medic could respond, the blue mech shifted his arm into a mighty hammer. With a roar of fury, Breakdown slammed it into his partner's chest.

Megatron and Dreadwing could only watch as Knock Out sailed through the air. The poor mech let out a shrill scream all the way, only to be abruptly cut off as he slammed into a rock formation in an explosion of dirt and stone. The Decepticon leader hardly twitched while the Seeker commander cringed at the painful noise of impact. Knock Out was on his feet by the time the dust settled, checking himself over for injuries. Or rather, the several wide, ugly scratches across his recently polished armor. Another shrill sound, this one at a higher pitch than the first.

"I just buffed that!" the vain fool wailed quite dramatically. Breakdown only chuckled triumphantly.

Usually Megatron would leave his subordinates to settle their own squabbles, as long as it didn't escalate to one of them being offlined. And that was only if he valued one or both parties involved. However, the Decepticon tyrant was didn't have the patience for that.

" _Enough_!" he bellowed, his deep roar reverberating off the walls of the cavern.

Knock Out and Breakdown's reaction was immediate. They straightened in reflex and whirled around to face him, dropping to a knee and bowed lowly enough to be groveling.

 _"_ _My liege,"_ Knock Out hummed.

 _"_ _My lord,"_ Breakdown greeted simultaneously.

 _"_ _ **What**_ _is the meaning of this?!"_ Megatron interrogated.

He looked around to find a clue, but found none. The mine was still full of energon, and there were no troops, no equipment. No Airachnid.

 _"_ _You are supposed to be murdering_ _ **Airachnid**_ _, not_ _ **each other**_ _!"_

Were his officers that _incompetent_?!

 _"_ _Oh, yes,"_ Knock Out deadpanned.

 _"_ _About that,"_ Breakdown piped. _"We were getting around to it, but…"_

 _"_ _There were…"_

 _"_ _Complications."_

 _"_ _And_ _ **what**_ _,"_ Megatron demanded in a low, dangerous tone, _"pray well, would_ _ **that**_ _be?"_

 _"_ _You told Airachnid was in the mine,"_ Dreadwing recalled. _"Where is she?"_

 _"_ _Oh, she was,"_ Knock Out agreed.

 _"_ _Now she's not,"_ Breakdown blurted out in a flat tone.

 _"_ _Care to share information that is not obvious?"_ It wasn't a request.

 _"_ _We did as you asked, master. We arrived on sight to apprehend the traitor, but it was as if she was…_ _ **waiting**_ _for us."_

 _"_ _We found her completely alone, unarmed,"_ Knock Out added.

 _"_ _Then explain to me why she is not here before me,"_ Megatron ordered, and listened as Breakdown answered.

 _"_ _The scavenger baited us. She said she knew we were acting under your orders, and when we—um_ _ **, I**_ _confirmed it, she just laughed. We attempted to restrain her, but it was like she wasn't even trying to fight back."_

 _"_ _Airachnid took off into the tunnels,"_ Knock Out continued. _"We gave chase, but she must have taken a secondary shaft to—"_

The Decepticon never had the chance to finish. Without warning, Megatron lashed out with supreme speed, snatching Knock Out into the air. The medic's cry was silenced as claws wrapped around his vocalizer. He fearfully tugged at the assaulting servo, but it was fruitless.

 _"_ _You_ _ **let**_ _Airchanid_ _ **escape**_ _?!"_ Megatron roared.

 _"_ _We did everything we could, Master—"_ Breakdown groveled.

 _"_ _ **Silence,**_ _you one-eyed oaf!"_

The mech quickly clipped his mouth, not daring to anger the tyrant further. Knock Out only whimpered pathetically in his grip. Realizing he had nothing else to add, Megatrom violently tossed him across the cavern. He was sent skidding across the ground, adding more scratches to his frame. This time he did not complain.

 _"_ _I will send a patrol,"_ Dreadwing volunteered, bravely stepping forward. _"Even with her flight mode, Airachnid could not have gone far."_

 _"_ _No,"_ Megatron answered, turning around to face the surprised Seeker. _"She expects to be followed."_

The Decepticon lord thought quickly. He doubted Airachnid used a groundbridge to escape—Soundwave would have prevented it. It was likely she fled into the mountains. She was certainly skilled, capable of sneaking through enemy territory undetected. And she was _fast_. But even the huntress could only go so far with such treacherous terrain. The vehicle she had chosen for flight was a rotary—it would not be able to brace the raging storm outside.

Where would she hide, anyway? Airachnid was wise to avoid human settlements. There was no Decepticon base, and her ship had been destroyed. Not even the Insecticon would dare return to the _Nemesis_ —

Megatron froze.

Airachnid had _laughed_. As if she was playing a game, as if she had won.

He whirled around to face his incompetent subordinates. _"What did Airachnid say, when she learned I ordered her demise?"_

Knock Out and Breakdown merely blinked at the odd question, but both answered hesitantly.

 _"_ _N-Nothing with base, really."_

 _"_ _Said something about you wouldn't stop her from taking what she wanted."_

Airachnid had full knowledge that she was surrounded, and would not be able to escape her pursuers. Megatron and his top officers were present, while the _Nemesis_ hovered overhead. The mighty warship, left unguarded, save for Soundwave and—

" _Jack_!" Megatron gasped, optics going wide with realization.

The trap was not to squash a spider, but the trap was to squash a _human_. And Megatron had fallen for it.

 _"_ _Return to the ship, immediately!"_

The warlord spun around on his heels and took off in a sprint, not waiting to see if his subordinates were following. He had barely breached the entrance before he shifted into a Cybertronian jet. With an explosion of sound, Megatron took to the skies, speeding towards the _Nemesis_.

And hope he was not too late.

* * *

 _Darkness. Jack was surrounded by darkness. The boy shivered as he curled into a ball, his teeth chattering against his will. Why was it so_ cold?

 _Before he could find the answer, scorching hot pain split across his skin. Jack screamed, uncurling from his tight ball to run, to flee, to escape. Only to be by another searing slash, and another, and another. Jack cried out at each one, and no matter how much he flailed, he couldn't get away. There was a dark, sadistic chuckle, one he knew all too well._

 _"_ _You don't look so good, Jackie," Marcus purred, his crooked smile stained by Jack's blood. "Should I get the doc? I don't need to call Silas, now do I?"_

 _No! Not Silas! Anything but Silas! Nonono… The madman would only lock him up in that_ grave. _He couldn't go back! He couldn't go back!_

 _With a terrified scream, Jack scrambled to his feet and twisted around in the same motion, desperately lunging away from his torturer. Only for him to ram into a solid, metal wall. Only, he realized it wasn't a wall at all, as clawed hands seized him._

 _"_ _Hush now, little one," Megatron rumbled, his voice impossibly soft. His fanged smile was kind and his violet optics were warm._

 _It contrasted greatly with the blood that covered his silver armor, both human and Cybertronian. The red and blue mixed together to form a sickly, purple liquid, covering the warlord from helm to pede. Jack gagged at the gruesome sight, and tried to rip free, but Megatron would not allow it._

 _His powerful arms wrapped around the fragile human with impossible gentleness, those deadly claws tangling in his raven hair. Jack shuddered as he felt the wetness of the blood on his scalp, and then his cheek as Megatron pressed him to his chest. His spark sounded like dying screams._

 _"_ _I will take care of you," the Decepticon leader whispered to him, still using that odd tone. "You are my pet… For all of time…"_

Jack screamed.

He snapped his eyes open, desperately trying to escape the wretched nightmare. He only found himself in another one, as he was met with blood-red optics.

With another wail, Jack threw a violent punch, only for his hand to slam into something solid. There was a startled shriek, like a cat having its tail stepped on. The harsh sound made Jack flinch, his mind swimming with disorientation. What? Where was he?!

Then he remembered. He was on the _Nemesis_ , still in Megatron's clutches. No, _Soundwave's_ clutches, as he recognized the walls of the communications hub. Cold sweat formed a layer on the boy's skin, sticking his clothes to his body. His heart hammered against his ribs. Jack panted heavily, trying to fill his air with lungs.

 _It was just a dream,_ he told himself. _It was just another stupid dream._

But why did it feel so _real_?

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a metallic croon. He jumped at the noise and looked over, but instead of Rumble's cocky grin, he was met with a familiar figure.

Ravage sat out of arm's reach, balancing on his paws with his belly scrapping the ground. He almost looked like a domestic housecat. However, the picture was ruined by the deadly, bladed tail flicking in the air, almost as a warning. The symbiote must have been attracted by the commotion, only for the terrified boy to strike his sensitive maw. Jack doubted that he actually hurt Ravage, but he must have startled the Decepticon. If the cybercat's narrowed glare was any indication.

"Uh, sorry, Ravage," the human apologized awkwardly.

The Decepticon only growled in reply. Ravage eyed Jack warily, and the boy didn't know if the cybercat was expecting him to hit again or planning to eat him. Before he could decide, Ravage suddenly stalked towards him. Jack gasped and moved back, remembering how the savage symbiote almost tore him to shreds.

But instead of sharp fangs digging into his skin, Ravage rubbed his snout against the human's arm. The symbiote let out a metallic croon, and when Jack only stiffened at the odd touch, the cybercat nuzzled his open palm. The boy watched Ravage both in fascination and anxiousness, until he carefully, hesitantly, stroked his fingers along the metal of the Decepticon's jaw.

Ravage merely twisted, so Jack was scratching the underside of his jaw. The cybercat let out a deep rumbling sound. Jack could feel the reverberations course through the Decepticon, traveling from his fingertips to his chest. Was… Ravage purring?

For a savage predator almost the size of a horse, easily Soundwave's largest minion, the sound was strangely soft. Comforting, even. Was that what Ravage was doing? Why would the Decepticon care about Jack? Or was he simply following Soundwave's orders?

The teenager was all the more confused when Ravage suddenly went silent and turned away, like finnicky a cat. However, instead of slinking back into the shadows, the symbiote paused and looked at Jack expectantly. The human felt uncomfortable under the predatory gaze, unsure what Ravage wanted.

"Um, I'm fine now, Ravage," Jack said lamely.

The cybercat didn't seem convinced, letting out another growl. This one wasn't as harsh as before, but certainly wasn't a purr, either. When the human just stared, Ravage reached forward with his maw, fangs tearing into the cuff of his sleeve. Jack naturally stiffened as he felt the sharp points poke his skin, but no blood was drawn. Instead, Ravage pulled with another quiet growl, bringing the boy's arm along with him.

"Ow! What are you doing?!" Jack yelped as he was yanked to his feet, only to grunt as he rammed into the symbiote's side.

Before he could pull away, an insistent snout pressed into his back. Ravage let out another gentle growl, lowering to the ground until his underbelly scraped against the metal floor. He gave Jack that expectant look again, and the human finally understood.

"You… want me to get on your back?"

The symbiote gave a huff. Surprise was the least Jack left. The only individual he had seen climb onto the giant cybercat was Rumble, and that was only when the pair of troublemakers were desperately escaping the wrath of the American army. There weren't many Cybertronians that were smaller than Ravage, and fewer that the Decepticon trusted enough to get close. What did that make Jack, then?

Was Ravage trying to help comfort the distraught boy, or was he just bored? Was this some trick?

Soundwave must have noticed Jack's hesitance, even from the other side of the room, as suddenly a wave of assurance washed over him. He had nothing to fear. Ravage was as loyal to Megatron as he was to Soundwave. He would not harm the boy. Jack would be safe with him.

"Aren't you supposed to be babysitting me?" the army brat asked, stalling.

Symbiotes: Soundwave's eyes and ears.

"Right…"

Still, the boy eyed Ravage warily. He told himself it was no different than riding a horse. A metal, savage horse with vicious fangs and claws. Jack swallowed thickly and slowly, hesitantly, took a hold of Ravage's dorsal armor. He froze, expecting the Decepticon to rip his hands off with an offended yowl, but cybercat remained as still, gaze focused on an interesting spot on the wall.

Summoning his courage, Jack used his upper strength to lift himself off the ground and placed his weight on Ravage. He braced to jump off at a moment's notice, but again he got no reaction. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he was climbing a statue. Still, he waited several long moments until the teen wedged his foot in a gap of armor, using it as a step and a makeshift stirrup. It wasn't until he swung his leg on the other side that Ravage finally shifted.

Instantly every muscle in Jack's body froze as the symbiote let out a grumble. But before he had the chance to flee, Ravage moved forward. The cybercat's motions weren't as jerky as he expected. The predator took long, graceful strides, gears and pistons turning in tandem. Jack could feel every movement underneath him, like a living, breathing animal.

"No different than riding a horse," the teenager assured himself again.

Ravage must not have liked to be compared to an organic, because he let out a noise that suspiciously sounded like a scoff. Just as his paws stopped at the edge of the work station.

Jack looked over the beast's shoulder, and his head spun. Solid, black metal stretched out before them, far, far below. Too far.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! W-w-wait a second!" His cries were unheeded and Ravage shifted onto his haunches, snout angled towards the ground. "Stop! Ravage— _aaahhh_!"

Jack's stomach flew up into his throat as the cybercat leaped. He couldn't even work up a scream, as all the air in his lungs was ripped away. The boy could only gasp as he slammed into the metal beneath him. But before he had the chance to regain his balance, the symbiote took off in a breakneck speed.

"Gah! Hey, slow down!"

Of course, he was ignored as Ravage tore out of the room and raced down the corridor. Jack's nails dug into gaps of armor, holding on for dear life. The last time he had gone through the _Nemesis_ at this speed was when Arcee had come to save him from Megatron. But instead of a steady rumbling of an engine beneath him, the plating of Ravage's armor jostled with each movement.

It reminded Jack of the first time he rode a horse, when his parents decided to take a trail into the mountains of Washington. Only for something to spook the little boy's horse, and he had screamed as it took off down the path. It wasn't afterwards that his father explained it was a gallop.

Remembering the man's instructions, Jack leaned forward and readjusted his grip to hold the base of Ravage's neck. He slightly pressed his knees to the cybercat's flank, but the symbiote did not react. The beast's movements became less violent, more fluid. No longer a hindrance, Jack moved with Ravage, and it felt _natural_.

The pair raced down the hallways, whipping around corners and jumping through yawning doors. Ravage skirted around the clanking pedes of drones, who let out startled chirps. No doubt it was a bizarre sight, a human riding the stealthy spy. But Jack hardly cared. His fear had melted away, replaced by euphoria.

Whether it was a galloping horse, a speeding motorcycle, or a sprinting Ravage, speed filled him with a rush like no other. Not even dark energon could give him the same high, as adrenaline began to race through his veins. Jack let out a laugh.

"Let's see what you got!" the teenager cheered. "Come on, faster!"

Ravage slowed down. Jack once again lost his balance as the cybercat skidded to a halt, claws scrapping across the metal ground with a terrible noise. Jack wheezed as the momentum sent him forward, but he managed to hold on instead of planting onto the ground in front of him.

Jack squinted in confusion as he looked up, but he only saw the empty, dark corridor before him. Yet Ravage was completely motionless, staring forward with his fangs bared. The symbiote let out a deep, unfriendly growl and his finials went flat.

"What is it, Ravage?" the teenager asked hesitantly, trying to find the same threat as the symbiote.

A chuckle answered him.

Jack's racing heart stopped as he snapped his head up. No, no, _impossible_! Like the universe was mocking him, violet, compound blinked at him. Ravage screeched. Then everything was too fast to follow.

A large, black mass dropped from the ceiling. Ravage lunged, sending Jack flying. A white, slimy, sticky substance flew and there was a muffled cry. The teen tried to call out, but then he felt something wrap around him. Restricting, suffocating.

Then the world went black.

* * *

 **And you thought I was going to give Jack a break, huh? I tried to add some comedic relief in this chapter, as bit of a "calm before the storm." Things only get intense from here.**

 **I hope the scene with Soundwave wasn't terribly confusing. I wanted to give him a unique way to communicate, but jumping between perspectives can be a bit muddled. To clear it up, he can manipulate one's thoughts to "speak" with them. But he can only do it with humans, simply because we don't come with firewalls.**

 **Jack riding around on Ravage was just a fun idea I really wanted to play with, and further show how he is growing more and more comfortable around Decepticons. I based it on my experiences with horseback riding, but it's been a while and I tried to spare details on the mechanics, so if I was inaccurate on something, I apologize.**

 **Does anyone feel a certain rush when you go 100mph down a highway? No? That's illegal? Never mind, then…**


	22. In the Spider's Web

Pain pounded against Jack's skull. He let out a groaned, furrowing his eyebrows in a wince. His entire body was sore. The boy tried to move his hand to cradle his head, only he couldn't move either of them. What?

It was then Jack there were warm arms wrapped around him, but not as large or strong as Megatron's. He felt curved, smooth metal, with something steadily pulsing against his ear. The world jostled, Jack's body lurching uncomfortably with each movement. Instead of the warlord's slow, steady stride, it was fast and uneven. Frantic, even.

…Arcee? But why was she running?

"Arcee… What's...?" Jack slurred.

A completely different voice answered him.

"Ah, you're awake at last."

Reality hit the teenager like a slap to the face. Jack instantly recognized the servo clamped around him, pressing him against black armor. It reverberated with sickly sparkbeat he had _never_ wanted to hear.

 _"_ _No!"_

With a terrified scream, Jack flailed, trying to free himself from Airachnid's hold. He punched against her chest and kicked her segmented abdomen, but his tender flesh bounced off the hard metal flawlessly. He couldn't reach Airachnid's face, which was leering down at him, not with his arms pinned to his sides. Jack compensated by trying to wiggle free.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Now, now, is that any way to thank your rescuer?"

But Airachnid did not _save_ him. Jack wailed, calling out to the only one who would. "Megatron! Megatron!"

The army brat tried to reach across the blood-bond, but everything was so fuzzy. It was hard to focus, and Megatron felt so distant. Was their link even open?

Suddenly Airachnid's grasp tightened. Jack gasped as the pressure on his ribs increased. Pain erupted from his chest, and it was suddenly harder to breathe. The teenager's desperate squirming weakened, but the crushing grip did not relent. Black spots danced around his vision. He began to wonder if Airachnid was going to force him into unconsciousness or simply break him in half.

Then finally, the pressure lessened, and Jack gaped like a fish out of water. His head spun, and he could not stop himself from slumping against Airachnid's frame. Disgusting claws petted his head.

"There, there, much better," the Insection cooed, half-condescending, half-soothing.

Jack couldn't reply, too busy gasping for breath. He tried to orient himself, but it was hard, with everything moving around him. Airachnid in her spider-like form, her appendages moving back and forth in a dizzying speed. They made disturbing _click-clack_ noises that sounded too much like a cockroach.

Black, uneven walls surrounded them, so close they were almost suffocating. The scent of earth tickled Jack's nostrils and the air was stale. They were underground? How?! The last thing he remembered was being on the _Nemesis._ He was with Ravage, when…

Images flashed across Jack's vision. The cybercat had lunged at Airachnid, deadly fangs aimed for her throat. Only for the spider to strike him with webbing, sending him sailing through the air. Jack had heard Ravage's cry of pain until everything disappeared.

Airachnid must have struck him, knocked him out. But what had happened after? Jack could only hope Ravage was alright, and no one else had gotten hurt. He knew he shouldn't think such things, especially about a Decepticon, especially when he was in his own predicament.

But… Ravage tried to protect him.

Now he was in Airachnid's claws.

"Wh-where are you taking me?" Jack demanded, but his voice quivered without his permission.

"Do not fear, dear one," the femme replied, as if she was trying to reassure him. "Just somewhere we can have a little chat."

Jack's stomach twisted at the sadistic pleasure that filled her words. He knew that tone all too well, and there was only one kind of "chat" Airachnid was interested in.

The walls of the confining tunnel disappeared and Jack suddenly found himself bathed in cool light. He looked up and was greeted by the night sky above him. Hundreds of stars were painted across the blank canvas, outshone by the brilliant full moon. It would have been a beautiful sight, but Jack knew he was no means free. Towering, jagged stone walls surrounded them, cutting off any hope of escape. The ground was uneven, littered with massive boulders and crevices. The teen doubted he could have gotten far even if he managed to escape Airachid's claws.

His heart thundered in his chest as he realized it was no coincidence that his captor chose this place. Especially as the boy made out a thin, white substance cross-crossing almost the entire cavern. Like a spider's web.

"Nonono!"

With a screech, Jack resumed his struggles. He clawed at Airachnid's armor, spitting and cursing at top of his lungs, but it was no use. The spider easily climbed onto the webbing, staying attached with just her thin appendages. It should have been impossible with the thrashing human in her grasp, but Airachnid made it seem effortless. Her fanged smile was the only warning Jack received.

He let out a wail as suddenly he was dropped onto the web. The boy instantly tried to rip free, but the sticky stuff stuck to his clothes and skin like super glue. The more he moved, the more tangled he became. It took several tries for Jack to rip an arm free, only to hiss as some of his skin teared off with it. He ignored the discomfort, reaching to free his other limbs. Only for claws to seize his wrists.

Jack screeched in protest, but Airachnid was stronger, pulling both arms until they were so taut the poor boy thought they would rip free from their sockets. She released more webbing, trapping his arms in place. The teenager only struggled harder, and Airchnid's smile widened. She added more webbing, to his chest, stomach, and legs, so Jack was nearly encased in a cocoon like one made from a spider.

Just like the last time the army brat was in the monster's claws, when she almost took his head, as some sick trophy. It was only because of Arcee that he managed to survive. But now his partner wasn't here. There was no Megatron, no Soundwave. Jack was alone, and no one knew where he was.

The teenager was filled with terror, and he was quite certain that Airachnid could smell the fear wafting from him. Jack pulled against his restraints with all his strength, but it was no use. The thick, sticky webbing did not relent, did not break. Keeping him trapped, helpless. His body trembled. No, no, not again, not again!

Jack swallowed, stamping down the panic building up in his chest. He couldn't be scared, not now, never again. He couldn't show fear to this monster. He snarled, baring fangs, summoning whatever courage he had left to glare at Airachnid.

"Megatron won't let you get away with this!"

The Decepticon smiled above him, revealing a row of glinting fangs. "Oh, I really doubt there'll be retribution."

The treacherous bitch said it all too casually, confidently. As if she had not just stolen from a murderous, possessive tyrant. Surely, she of all beings would know the consequences of crossing Lord Megatron.

"He destroyed MECH to come get me," Jack reminded his captor. "What do you think he's going to do to you?"

Airachnid blinked at that, even rearing her helm back as if she wasn't expecting such a statement. The human dared to feel a flare of satisfaction, that he made his captor realize she had made a horrible mistake. However, Airachnid's surprise vanished as quickly as it appeared, along with his triumph. She let out a low, purr-like chuckle, that smile returning to her lips.

"You really think that was a _rescue_ , don't you?" Airachnid said, her tone filled with disbelief and mockery at the same time. Jack only glared in response, but it only elected a short laugh. "Oh, my sweet, Megatron did not come for _you_."

What? When the boy just stared, the Decepticon lowered her helm so that their faces were only an inch apart. Jack tried to flinch away, but he couldn't move, couldn't escape.

He was forced to stare into those compound optics as Airachnid explained in a low purr, "He merely used your capture as an _excuse_ , to attack the humans that had been harassing his forces for so long. Megatron could not pursue them, not without admitting _insects_ were a threat, so he used you instead."

"No," Jack denied instantly, shaking his head. "That doesn't make sense. Megatron wouldn't need me to launch an attack. And if he really wanted me as a decoy, then he would actually had me captur—"

The army brat realized before he even finished his sentence, cutting off with a choke-like sound.

 _"_ _Prove to me that this 'army' is worth my attention. And then, I just may consider their desecration."_

Airachnid's smirk broadened at the noise Jack made, speaking before he could even form another coherent thought. "Did you really think he expected _you_ to take down MECH, all by yourself? He _wanted_ you to be taken."

"N-no, you're lying—" Jack protested, only to be cut off by the femme.

"Why did you think he did not come for you so soon? Megatron had to ensure that MECH was fully invested in you, distracted by you, allowing Soundwave to track their coordinates."

Jack found his throat constricting. No, it didn't make sense. Megatron had _saved_ him. He had taken him away from MECH's cruel clutches.

"Why would he do that? Why use me, let me b-be—" The boy stuttered as dark, painful memories flashing before his eyes, and it took him several seconds to speak. "— _tortured_ , just to find MECH? And why did he spare me, if he didn't care what happened to me?"

"Why else? Megatron plucked out a thorn from his side _and_ bought your trust, in a single night. What is that phrase you humans say? Killing two birds, with a single stone?"

Airachnid made it sound so simple, so obvious, and Jack found himself trying to spit out the poisonous words. The boy had spent nearly the entire summer with the tyrant, who made sure to remind him that Jack belonged to him alone. Once Megatron sunk his claws into something, he would never let it go. He would _never_ let someone else play with his favorite pet. …Right?

Jack had seen the warlord's memories, how the Decepticon leader would destroy anything in his way, no matter the cost. Even if it meant sacrificing his own allies, merely to claim victory for himself. The tactic was not below Megatron, but…

The Decepticon had not abandoned Jack. He had nursed his broken charge back to health, comforted him, provided for him. Megatron talked to him, held him during his night terrors, took him flying. Was… was that all just a ploy? To… _buy_ him?

"No," Jack refused. "He—"

Another strangled sound, when the boy could not find a word. No, Megatron certainly did not hold any affection for the teenager. Did the dictator even know what love was?

"What?" Airachnid asked, in a sickly soft tone. "Do you think he values you? That he thinks you are special?"

"H-he said—"

" _Wake up_ , Jack. Do you truly think you are his first pet?"

He couldn't help it. The captive flinched, violently, but the webbing kept him place. The sentence was sharp, deadly, and Jack felt something strike his heart. There were… others?

"He's had several," Airachnid went on, as if she could read his thoughts. The femme placed a claw on her lips as she tilted her helm. It was an intimidation of a human gesture, a mockery of thought. "Hmm… There was that one clerk… From Iacon. Oh, what was his name?"

"Orion…" Jack gasped, barely audible, his body frozen. The spider's optics lit up at the name.

"Ah, yes, Orion Pax. I hear Megatron was quite infatuated, until the whole Prime incident."

 _"_ _He reminds me a great deal of Orion Pax."_

"Then there was Soundwave—oh, don't look so surprised. Why do you think that walking husk is always following Megatron around on his heels?"

 _"_ _Soundwave is the only one I trust."_

"Now… who else was there? That little cute pet he kept with him in Tyger Pax. Hmm… that young scout. Bumblebee, was it?"

 _"_ _If he would not speak to me, he would not speak at all."_

Jack's body trembled without his permission. No, no, it couldn't be true. Airachnid was lying to him. This was just another one of her games, playing with her prey before the kill. Yet the boy's heart twisted at every word she said.

Megatron was a master manipulator. He knew how to exploit one's weakness, make anyone do his bidding without even realizing it. He convinced half a planet to bow to him, to fight a war for him.

"Come now," Airachnid continued, as if she could hear his doubt. "Did you think Megatron could keep you forever?"

Megatron's possessive promise echoed through Jack's mind, one he made to remind his charge over and over.

 _"_ _You are mine, and mine alone. For all of time."_

"H-he… he promised," Jack tried, but even he could hear how weak, unsure his voice sounded.

"You cannot _live_ forever. A human's lifespan is like a blink of an eye to a Cybertronian. Once he made use of you, he will toss you out as another tool. Just look at the courtesy he had given his _loyal_ disciples."

Suddenly Starscream's groveling form flashed across Jack's eyes, as Megatron aimed his fusion cannon at his helm He heard the warlord's malicious growl as he plotted to squash Airachnid (which quite obviously had gone _very_ wrong). But they were traitors. Scheming to overthrow him.

But then what did that make Jack? Airachnid was right… he was human. He was frail, mortal. One day his body would fail him, and Megatron would have no use for him. The tyrant would not want Jack if he was ill and weak, or old and tired.

The human would be left as scrap, forgotten. Just like Bumblebee. Poor, broken Bumblebee.

Suddenly Airachnid leaned closer, her faceplates hovering over Jack's face. He flinched as he felt her hot vents, her fangs so close they could sink into his delicate skin. The spider's whisper was as quiet as a breath, "He lied to you, Jack. Everything he ever told you was a lie."

Jack's throat tightened, and his eyes stung. "I-I… I don't b-believe… you."

"But you know it's true, don't you?"

The army brat shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to force down the sudden pain in his chest. A single tear escaped without his permission, and he could not stop the muffled, pitiful sound from his lips.

"Shh, shh, shh," Airachnid cooed at him in an almost loving tone. "Don't be so upset, my sweet." The teenager cringed as suddenly servos rubbed at his sides in slow, massaging strokes. "You couldn't have known. I too was deceived by Megatron. It's what makes us so alike, you and I."

The sickening purr made Jack's stomach churn. He opened his watery eyes and he pulled his lips back in a snarl. His voice was still trembling, but it was harsh and full of hatred.

"I-I'm nothing like you!"

It was then careful claws cupped his face, a gentle thumb wiping away his tears. Jack tried to wince away from the touch, but Airachnid held him in place, still speaking in that quiet whisper.

"But we are both insects, are we not?"

Jack froze at that statement. He never fathomed the idea of a Decepticon calling themselves as such. Certainly not Airachnid. But the boy remembered. Not once, did the Decepticons ever refer the femme as one of them. Instead, they had called her something else.

An Insecticon.

"Did they ever tell you about my kind?" Airachnid asked, finally pulling away from Jack's personal space.

The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but now that he was finally allowed to _think_ , he tried to recall everything he knew about the spider. Aside from the nightmares he had been told, he knew nothing about Airachnid. He knew even less about Insecticons.

His captor was staring at him expectantly, and Jack realized she was patiently waiting for an answer.

"N-no."

"I'm not surprised," Airachnid admitted, her dull drawl reinforcing the words. "Most of Cybertron prefers to pretend we don't exist."

"But… _you're_ from Cybertron."

"Same planet, perhaps, but a completely different world." Jack just squinted his eyes in confusion as Airachnid shifted on her appendages, making herself comfortable on her nest. "There was a time Insecticons once ruled Cybertron. _Everything_ belonged to us, and we took what we wanted."

That sultry purr was gone, replaced by a tone Jack never heard before. It was low, longing. Almost nostalgic. Was Airachnid talking about her race, or _her_ past? Then, just as suddenly, that odd look was replaced by a seething glare and a scathing hiss.

"Then _they_ came. Cybertronians, led by their vile Primes. They _exterminated_ my kind. They squashed us like bugs, scorched our land with fire, and poisoned our energon, Entire colonies—thousands, _millions_ of Insecticons—were _decimated_. My people were forced underground, hiding like vermin. Forbidden to touch the surface, to see the light of the sun."

Jack swallowed, the story becoming painfully familiar.

"We became scavengers. Feeding on the energon that flowed through the depths of Cybertron. Making feasts out of _sludge_ , and taking shelter in piles of scrap. We were considered as inferior, lesser. They called us barbarians, beasts. _Insects_."

Suddenly the true meaning of Insecticon became so much clearer.

"Megatron promised us a better life. To give us what we deserve, to return the Insecticons to our former glory. And the condition was simple—" Airachnid waved her servos, like she could see the concept right before her. "—Swear featly to him, as the true Lord of Cybertron, and fight in his little war. And _ooohhh_ …"

The huntress trailed off with a sigh, optics glowing brilliantly and her lips spreading in a sadistic smile.

"How satisfying it was, to hunt across the surface once again. To tear apart prey and listen to their _screams_. So I wore this brand—" Airachnid pointed to the bold and proud Decepticon sigil on her chest. "—and I served Lord Megatron. I served him, as he crushed and burned and poisoned Cybertron until there was nothing left to hunt. Until the Insecticons became _extinct_."

The army brat swallowed thickly, and Jack had to summon his courage to meet Airachnid's gaze.

"So that's what this is all about, huh? You don't want to become leader of the Decepticons. You want revenge."

"I want _more_ than revenge. I want to lay waste to all those that opposed the Insecticons, and I want them to _suffer_. We will take what belongs to _us._ "

Airachnid ended her bloodthirsty vow with a hiss. The prisoner tried to sound braver than he felt.

"Megatron's never going to let that happen! He'll destroy you!"

Airachnid only let out an amused chuckle at his threat. "He may try. But the Lord of the Decepticons failed to realize that when he killed Cybertron, he did not kill us all."

Jack squinted, puzzled, but he never had a chance to speak. Suddenly a shrill, _unnatural_ scream echoed through the chamber. The boy flinched, the harsh sound assaulting his eardrums. He looked past Airachnid, trying to find the source, only to see a portion of the wall _move_.

There was a bulge along the stone, crawling and twitching, letting out odd clicking noises. Before Jack could make out was it was, suddenly the thing sprung off the wall, and something _huge_ fell to the floor with a terrible slam.

It looked more like a monster than a Cybertronian. More _organic_. Its dark hide was made of uneven metal, rippling across its frame. Long, razor-sharp claws flashed in the moonlight, scraping across the stone with a horrid noise. A pair of antennas on the beast's helm twitched at odd angles, smelling the air around it. Its gnashing fangs were surrounded chelicerae that clicked together. The monster's compound optics made a slit of crimson, that almost looked like a false visor.

So frozen at the sight, it took Jack several long moments to realize the grotesque creature was an Insecticon. It was bigger than Megatron!

"Jack, I would like you to meet a friend of mine: Hardshell," Airachnid introduced all too casually. She turned to the monstrous Insecticon, beckoning, "Come closer."

The beast obeyed, the ground shuddering with each step. Jack squirmed, trying to get away, but the webbing kept him in place. As the Insecticon moved closer, the teenager could see pale, jagged scars littering its body. A couple of claws were snapped in half, and even one of its chelicerae was missing. Somehow it made the Insecticon's appearance all the more disturbing, and the human tried to lean away from it.

It was fruitless. The monster's marred faceplates hovered over his, so close that a chelicera brushed against his cheek. Jack let out a disgusted squeak, but the pitiful noise was drowned out by the Insecticon's growl, which sounded like a demonic lawnmower. Oral lubricant spilled from its mouth, dripping onto the pinned human's face.

Jack failed to hide his revolted shiver. It took several times for him to find his voice, falling back to the only defense he had.

"Ngh, what happened?" he grunted through gritted teeth. "Did they run out of cute fluffy puppies at the pet store?"

Airachnid chuckled, but Jack suspected it was more at the tremor in his voice rather than his sarcastic jab.

"Oh, no. Hardshell is merely a disciple serving his _queen_."

The spider waved her servo dismissively, and the Insecticon moved away in a bow-like motion. She took its place, balancing over her trophy. Airachnid lovingly brushed the back of her claws against Jack's cheek.

" _You,_ however… you are the true prize."

"But didn't you just try to make a point that I don't make a good pet?"

Airachnid almost sounded offended. "Oh, no, Jack. You make the _perfect_ pet."

When the boy tried to wince away, she took his face in both of her servos, forcing him to look up at her. Her optics were gleamed with possessive delight.

"I will take care of you, in ways Megatron cannot. I will guarantee that you will never feel pain _ever_ again." Airachnid let out a pleased purr, running a single claw across Jack's jugular. Her meaning was clear. "We will be together, forever."

* * *

"No _fair_!" Miko protested in a heartbroken wail. "Why do we have to leave?"

"Because I _said_ so," Ratchet replied, exasperated as he pushed the girl forward with his servo.

The teenager stubbornly dug her heels in, even as the Cybertronian effortlessly dragged her across the floor. The medic could easily pick her up to solve the problem, but that would make Miko struggle more, and Ratchet would never hurt a human. Still, Arcee could see the old 'Bot reach for patience as he ushered the girl towards the groundbridge.

Bulkhead was also watching the spectacle, trying to urge his charge to cooperate. Raf and Bumblebee were already waiting patiently, the youngest teenager clinging to his guardian's finger. There were tears in the human's eyes, but he was utterly silent, unlike his older friend.

"What about Jack!?" Miko demanded. "We still need to find him!"

Arcee's spark twisted painfully, but she did not show a reaction as Ratchet cautiously glanced in her direction. He turned his attention back to the struggling teenager in his servo.

"Don't worry," he assured, his gruff voice oddly soft. "We'll find him."

"But what if he's hurt? What if Megatron does something to him again? What if you need our help?"

Ratchet looked helpless under the onslaught of questions, and Arcee decided to step in.

"When we find Jack—and we _will_ find him," the two-wheeler started as she knelt beside Miko, "—you'll be the first one we'll call."

"And Ms. Darby!"

Arcee couldn't imagine what the frantic mother was going through, losing her son once again. First to terrorists and now a psychopathic warlord. If Megatron hadn't killed him already.

The image was still clear in Arcee's processor: the tyrant's wicked, triumphant sneer, as he held a broken, limp Jack in his servo. Megatron's optics had met hers, and he disappeared into the groundbridge, into whatever nightmare he had in store for Jack.

Forcing the morbid thoughts away, Arcee merely nodded and promised curtly, "Of course."

Miko didn't look convinced, her expression torn as she glanced between the groundbridge and Bulkhead. There was a sniffle that suspiciously sounded like Raf. Arcee knew it was cruel, to force the children away after they had just been reunited with their guardians. When they were so confused and frightened.

Jack was still missing, still in danger.

And now humans had attacked an Autobot.

Sure, there had been plenty of misunderstandings before. Bumblebee got captured, and terrified soldiers raised their weapons at a peaceful Optimus Prime. But humans never actually _harmed_ an Autobot. They certainly never approved an air strike when the Cybertronians were still in range, without warning.

As much as Arcee loathed to admit it, but if Megatron had not disrupted the squadron of fighter jets before they fired, then they all would be coming home in pieces. Which was why the children had to leave.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead would lose themselves, if their young charges were caught in the crossfire. Between who, she did not know.

"I'll see you soon, a'right?" Bulkhead promised, kneeling next to Miko and offering a gentle servo.

The girl merely glared. "And we'll dune bashing again?"

"I promise ya."

"Pinky?"

"I pinky promise."

Bulkhead even held out his smallest digit, though Arcee didn't really understand why. Miko hesitated further, and the femme began to fear they would have to drag her back home. Then the girl let out an un-Miko like keen and lunged forward. She wrapped her little arms around Bulkhead's finger, pressing her forehead to the warm metal.

Both he and Ratchet had to pry the poor girl off of him. Miko looked more than reluctant, but she did not resist as Raf gently took her hand.

"Come on, Bumblebee says he'll drive us home," the young boy said gently.

The young scout promptly transformed into a Camaro, patiently waiting as the teenagers climbed into his cab. For his part, Bumblebee didn't squander and Arcee watched as he drove into the groundbridge, a pair of sad faces looking back at her. The vortex snapped close, cloaking the hanger in darkness once more.

Arcee sighed. "Do you think that was a smart move?"

"They are safer at home than they are here," Ratchet frowned.

And how the femme hated how true that was. But how could they protect Raf and Miko, when they couldn't even protect Jack?

Poor Bulkhead looked miserable. Arcee made her voice sound light, despite her raging spark.

"Hey, Bulk, how about a visit with Wheeljack? See how our newest recruit is settling in."

"I believe he is currently being chewed out by Commander Lennox," Ratchet grumbled.

Bulkhead gave no indication he heard the medic's comment, as his optics brightened when he was reminded of his closest friend. He gave an excited affirmative before shuffling out the door. Wheeljack's arrival had caused quite some excitement, between both the Cybertronians and humans.

The Autobots were overjoyed to hear of another survivor, and yet another recruit to join their growing ranks. There was already talk that they may have the numbers to stage a counterattack against the massive army of Decepticons. And of course, gossip how the aloof Wrecker was like, and his entrance to Earth.

However, Arcee had her suspicions that the humans were not as zealous. Her anxiety only grew as the two-wheeler's audios detected the murmur of quiet conversation. Sure enough, she rounded the corner to find a pair of soldiers, heads close together with solemn faces. One of the humans noticed the pair of towering Cybertronians and quickly slapped his comrade with a hush. Two pairs of wide-eyes turned to Arcee, and the Autobot merely replied with a curt nod.

They didn't have to be so secretive. She already heard the rumors. Of how not two, but _three_ Decepticons had invaded a military base. That when the Autobots arrived, they did _nothing_ to stop Megatron from destroying an entire squadron of fighter jets. Then, of course, it was Wheeljack that started the altercation, but firing upon terrified soldiers.

Arcee could only hope Lennox could quiet the false reports. After he was done reprimanding the trigger-happy mech, of course. However, it wasn't easy to control a Wrecker. Sure enough, Arcee and Bulkhead stepped into the lobby of the main hanger, only to be greeted by a ranting Wheeljack.

"What are we doing just _sitting_ here?! Every klik we waste, the farther Dreadwing gets away!"

The mech reminded Arcee of one the planet's large, predatory cats, pacing restlessly back and forth, eager for blood but locked in a cage. The other Autobots were smart enough to keep their distance, but Optimus was a Prime. The Guardian Knight bodily stepped in front of his raging subordinate. Wheeljack's ice-cold optics flashed and he _glared_ , yet Optimus was an unmoving as a stone wall.

"Wheeljack, this planet is heavily inhabited," the Autobot leader informed sternly. "We cannot engage our enemies carelessly, lest we risk endangering the human population."

"So you are suggesting we do _nothing_?!"

Optimus shook his helm, assuring, "No. You have my word, that Dreadwing and _all_ of the Decepticons will answer for their crimes. But any strike we make against the Decepticons, must be carefully measured as a team."

" _And_ okayed by me," Lennox added, arms crossed over his chest and expression stern.

"Yeah, next time when you decide to drop in, give a call, will ya?" Epps huffed. "Here on Earth it's rude to walk in someone's house uninvited."

Wheeljack only scowled at the humans' complaint and wheeled around, armor bristling. "What was that?"

"Uh, oh," Mirage muttered as the Wrecker stormed over to pair of soldiers.

For his credit, Lennox did not flinch as the large mech leaned down to meet him face-to-face, ice-cold optics blazing.

"Let me clarify something, _tiny_ ," Wheeljack snarled, "I don't need to be 'oh-kayed' by anyone. I don't follow orders, especially from _you._ "

The lieutenant colonel frowned at Wheeljack's brash words, hard eyes narrowing into a disapproving stare. Remembering the gossiping soldiers outside, Arcee thought quickly, hailing Wheeljack's frequency. The silver mech only gave her the briefest of glances, but after a moment he answered her call.

 _"_ _In order to keep our asylum on Earth, we have agreed to a military alliance. But right now, things are… fragile."_

Wheeljack didn't sound particularly concerned. _"Oh? How so?"_

"You! Loose cannon!"

 _"…_ _That fragile."_

The occupants of the room turned, only to be greeted by Galloway, his face an angry shade of red. His body was unnaturally stiff, yet he still managed to storm towards the giants at a frightening fast pace. And Arcee thought Fowler could be mad. The security advisor wasted no time climbing up to the second level, all but shoving Lennox out of the way as he glared at a baffled Wheeljack.

"Your cowboy antics almost blew our entire operation!" the liaison ranted, shoving an accusing finger towards the mech with such violence that Wheeljack had to flinch back. While the Wrecker merely blinked, Lennox glared, but not at the Cybertronian.

"And _you_ almost blew _us_ up," the lieutenant colonel accused Galloway, stepping forward to tower over the man. "We didn't call for that air strike."

"You're right, _I_ did," the liaison admitted shamelessly, whirling around to face the military commander. "In response of a Decepticon invasion of a U.S. facility."

Lennox's glare narrowed. "You endangered the lives of my men, and now four good pilots are _dead_."

"Because _you_ failed to contain the enemy!"

"The situation was under control."

"If it was, I wouldn't be here!" Lennox's face merely twitched at the retort, but had no response as Galloway continued to rant, "I had to jump through some major hoops to get that giant _spaceship_ to get it hauled out of plain sight!"

"Out of sight?" Wheeljack echoed.

"We're _robots in disguise_ , Jackie," Bulkhead explained. "If you're going to stay here, you're going to need an earth-based vehicle."

Rather that lightening up with understanding, Wheeljack's optics darkened, his voice coming out as a growl. "So now we're _hiding_ from Decepticons?"

Bulkhead blinked at the dark tone, even sputtering for a response. He never had the chance, as Wheeljack gave a disgusted snort. With one last glare at Optimus, the silver mech whirled around and stomped away, the ground quivering with each step. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe wisely stepped out of his path and let him go.

"He seems friendly," Simmons commented sarcastically from where he watched the entire exchange from a safe corner of the hanger.

"More like he has a little problem with authority," Epps muttered, glaring after the rude mech.

"Wheeljack and Bulkhead served together in the Wreckers, a combat unit that operated _outside_ the normal chain of command," Optimus Prime explained. "They accepted missions no one else would, and many of them did not come back."

"Hmm… black ops," Lennox translated.

Galloway came to his own conclusion, growling, "So you're telling me you can't control your own _people_."

While Optimus merely glanced at the human, Arcee felt her spark grow hot at the open insult. Prime would do _anything_ to protect his team! …Even if it meant grounding her from missions, if he thought it was best. The two-wheeler stepped forward to defend her leader, to say as such.

A ring filled her audios.

Arcee froze. Someone was calling her com-link? But everyone was here! She quickly counted helms only to confirm as such, and she highly doubted a brooding Wheeljack would hail her in such a way. But who else had her frequency?

Another ring, and the femme had to stop herself from answering immediately. There were too many curious optics in the room, and too many accusing eyes. Keeping her steps silent, she stalked out of the room, ducking into an isolated alcove.

She placed her fingers on her audio fin, answering quietly, "Who is this?"

 _"_ _Ah, Arcee, is that any way to greet an old friend?"_

Instantly the energon in the two-wheeler became frozen solid, and an involuntary shiver crawled down her spinal strut like a spider. Like the same one that had her trapped in its twisted web.

" _Airachnid_ ," Arcee hissed with venom. "How did you—"

 _"_ _Come now, my sweetspark, I learned quite a few things about you during our all too brief time together."_ Arcee trembled as the gruesome images flashed across her optics, and phantom pain ate away at her protoform. _"Such as… you have quite soft spot when it comes to your partner…"_

Arcee's own agonized scream echoed in her audios, as she watched Tailgate's energon splatter across the wall. But he was dead. Airachnid had already killed him. Unless she was talking about—

"…What have you done to Jack?"

 _"_ _Nothing yet. It would seem Megatron has grown bored of his pet, so he has given it to me to play with."_

 _It?_ Arcee snarled, but before she could reply, Airachnid went on, _"Isn't that right, my sweet?"_

Suddenly there was a small, pitiful whimper, one the femme recognized immediately. "Jack!"

 _"_ _I'm afraid he can't hear you. But if you wish to talk to him, you are free to join us."_

Her spark twisted, but Arcee made herself sound calm and collected. "How do I know that this isn't some trick?"

A dark chuckle was her reply. _"You don't. But you are not going to risk another partner, are you?"_

Arcee wasn't stupid. She knew it was a trap. Airachnid wasn't even bothering to hide the fact. It was possible that she didn't have Jack at all, but this was merely another one of her games. But what if she did? Could Arcee leave her charge, her _friend_ , in that monster's claws?

 _"_ _Of course you won't,"_ Airachnid answered, as if she could hear the two-wheeler's thoughts. _"I'm providing coordinates. See you soon, my dear."_

There was a ping as a stream of data entered Arcee's processor and there was an abrupt burst of static as the Insecticon cut the frequency. Leaving Arcee in suffocating silence.

It took her a full klik to realize her frame was shaking. Her long digits dug into protoform, drawing energon. She hated this. She hated how weak Airachnid made her feel.

Arcee knew the smart decision was to go back out in the main hanger and inform the Autobots of what just occurred. Optimus would assemble a strike team, and Galloway could not complain if it was to terminate a Decepticon. A lone Airachnid couldn't fight them all at once.

But a cornered Insecticon was violent. Arcee had too many run-ins with the blood-thirsty scavengers to learn that. There was no telling how Airachnid would react, and if she would turn her wrath against Jack. And another thing Arcee had learned, was that an Insecticons was _never_ alone.

Airachnid was plotting something.

Arcee needed to be there. Something Optimus didn't understand. He would force her to stay behind, when Jack needed _her_. The guardian balled her servos into trembling fists and she made her decision.

"Hold on, Jack. I'm coming."


	23. Crossfire

**Hey, everyone! Here's another action-packed chapter! Special thanks to _TheLionfart_ for betaing this chapter!**

* * *

Megatron's great bellow echoed through the long halls of the _Nemesis_ , filled with livid anger.

" _YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE_ WATCHING _HIM!"_

Of course, Soundwave offered no reply—no excuse, no apology. He merely bowed his helm in shame, not daring to meet his raging lord's optics. Poor Ravage was curled in the corner of the communications center, tail between his legs and a sizeable dent in his side. Dreadwing stood in the corner, out of sight and out of the crossfire. Knock Out and Breakdown had already long fled.

And Megatron was only left with his fury. Gone. His Jack was _gone_!

The former Champion curled his claws into a fist and raised it above his helm. Soundwave braced, armor instinctively clamping onto his protoform, but made no other movement to defend himself. Then with a ferocious yell, Megatron threw a mighty punch, right into the central console.

The piece of machinery erupted in flames, debris and smoke flying in all directions. The screen above the terminal flickered in protest before it turned to lifeless black.

Megatron knew better than to blame Soundwave. The third-in-command was always loyal, always rational. He had _never_ failed, and by all technicality, he had followed his master's orders when he ensured Ravage was accompanying the boy.

The symbiotes were an extension of Soundwave's will. Through Ravage, Soundwave had watched and protected Jack, even if in the end, he was helpless. No different than the rest of the Decepticons, confused in the depths of the mine.

No… Megatron only blamed _one._

 _"_ _Airachnid,"_ he seethed. _"I will hunt the wretch to every corner of this world if I have to, and when I find her, I will not give her the mercy of a painless death. I will tear her apart, LIMB BY LIMB!"_

No one spoke against his vengeful rant. Airachnid had made a fool of him. He would not be so easily played a second time.

Suddenly a cheerful ring interrupted Megatron's bloodthirsty thoughts. He blinked in confusion while Dreadwing flinched and Soundwave stiffened. The communications officer automatically turned his attention to the surviving computer.

 _"_ _What is it?"_ Megatron snarled, armor bristling as he turned towards the intrusion. He was in no mood for any more surprises.

But like the universe was openly mocking him, an all too familiar voice filled the air.

 _"_ _Lose something?"_ Airachnid purred, her voice filled with amused triumph.

Instantly the warlord let out a growl deep from his chest, his optics flaring a hellish red and his armor bristling. Although all he could think about was reaching through the screen and ripping the Insecticon in half, Megatron turned his attention to Soundwave, ordering curtly, _"Trace the communication."_

His third-in-command did not hesitate, servos flying over the keys in a whirr of movement. Meanwhile, Airachnid went on in a mocking tone, _"Megatron, truly, you_ _ **really**_ _need to keep a better optic on your pets. Or they become easy_ _ **prey**_ _."_

 _"_ _Return my property to me,"_ Megatron demanded. _"And I may consider giving you a quick termination."_

 _"_ _Hmm… as tempting as an offer as that may be, I think I'll keep Jack with me for now. We're spending quite a bit of quality time together."_

Megatron was revolted with the mere idea of that disgusting insect touching what was his. _"Consider this a warning, Airachnid, I'll—"_

 _"_ _You'll_ _ **what**_ _? Send more underlings to assassinate me? I thought you would have reserved that honor for yourself."_

The Decepticon leader let out a savage roar that reverberated across the dark walls. He stormed forward, snarling, _"Is that a challenge?!"_

 _"_ _An_ _ **invitation**_."

There was another high-pitched ring, the screen flashing with zeal. Soundwave immediately brought up a map, zooming in on the heart of a southern continent.

 _"_ _And since Soundwave is no doubt tracing this signal, you know where to find me."_

With that, there was a burst of static as the line when dead. Megatron wasted no time.

 _"_ _I'll be back,"_ he announced, turning on his heel and lumbering towards the door.

Dreadwing made no movement as he stormed past the Seeker, but then the captain took a hesitant step forward and offered, _"Allow me to accompany you."_

Though his voice was filled with loyal chivalry, Megatron grumbled at the words. The day's fiasco proved he couldn't rely on anyone to be competent. He would have to take care of this himself. Airachnid would die in _his_ claws.

 _"_ _ **No**_ ," he thundered, pausing to look back at the Seeker. _"I will handle this,_ _ **alone**_."

The Decepticon leader didn't wait to see Dreadwing's torn expression, as he stormed out of the room to reclaim what was stolen from him.

* * *

Perhaps against his better judgement, Megatron chose to take a groundbridge instead of flight. Although Soundwave pinpointed Airachnid's location, the warlord knew it meant nothing. The femme could have manipulated her signal to provide false coordinates.

It was quite a common tactic used in the war, especially useful for ambushes. And there was no doubt that this was a trap. Yet Megatron would not take any longer than he had to. If Airachnid was so eager to face his wrath, then she would have it.

The Decepticon leader stepped out of the vortex, his stomps reverberating across the jungle around him. Unlike the crisp, cool mountain wind that greeted him when he attacked the human base, thick, humid air pressed against his sensors. A chorus of organic chatter greeted him, too many and too foreign for Megatron to identify the source. A plethora of scents filtered through his olfactory receptors: the freshness vegetation, the musk of beasts, the petrichor of rain… and something more vile. Something that was _not_ organic.

Megatron growled and his optics narrowed dangerously. Airachnid was close. But he did not remember that she had such a powerful scent. Perhaps it was part of her hunt, to lure him in for the kill. It did not matter.

The dictator marched forward, flaring his raging EM field. Airachnid was not the only one that could play games. She would know he was coming, and she would fear him. Until then, Megatron was greeted by the startled cries of birds and other sensitive creatures disrupted by his powerful essence, making haste to escape his path.

His journey was short. He came to a deep basin that interrupted the jungle floor, leading far into the earth. Not even the Cybertronian's sharp optics could pierce the black abyss. The nasty scent of Insecticon was strongest here, wafting up from the depths in a revolting wind. Megatron didn't know what was waiting for him, but he didn't care.

He stepped off the rim of the cave, allowing the planet's gravity to seize his great weight. He did not fall far, landing gracefully onto his pedes with such force that the stone cracked underneath him. The warlord instantly recognized that he had found Airachnid's lair.

Her webbing covered the entire cavern to form a sticky, ugly nest. Megatron wondered if Airachnid had claimed this place while she lived in exile, or if she created this display for the sole purpose to carry out her plot. His optics scanned over his surroundings, actively searching for a threat, only for his gaze to fall on a single, tiny figure.

Jack was obviously unconscious, his head slumped and his chest rising and falling steadily. Either Airachnid forced him into stasis or he had merely succumbed to exhaustion and fear. His body was spread out across a tangled web, presented like some sick trophy. A growl ripped free from Megatron's throat. It was the same sort of display Zeta would use, to show the husks of fallen Decepticons to warn everyone of his wrath. Airachnid wanted to make it personal, then.

Sure enough, the treacherous Decepcion's purr wafted through the air, _"You don't waste time, do you?"_

The Decepticon leader tilted his helm up at the _click-clack_ of stabilizers, only to see Airachnid climbing down from the upper reaches of her nest.

 _"_ _Your stay of execution has come to an_ _ **end**_ ," Megatron announced, raising his fusion cannon. The weapon hummed to life, ready to lay waste.

But before he had the chance to fire, Airachnid shifted closer to Jack—too close. If he attacked now, his pet would be caught in the blast. Megatron curled his lip and Airachnid grinned.

Although the tyrant kept his cannon leveled, the Insecticon tested his patience when she reached out with a servo. Megatron almost fired there and then when her claws tangled in Jack's raven hair. Like the human was aware of what was happening, he flinched away from her touch, but his prison kept him place.

 _"_ _Beautiful thing, isn't he?"_ Airachnid murmured, almost lovingly as she stroked Jack's head. _"He has quite a charm to him. I think I'm starting to understand why you have taken such a liking to him."_

 _"_ _It is because unlike_ _ **some**_ _, Jack will never cross me,"_ Megatron snarled.

Finally, the said boy began to stir, letting out a fearful whimper. Blue, disoriented eyes blinked open.

"Megatron?" Jack slurred, but the Decepticon wasn't sure if the human was aware that he was present or not.

With a sickly-sweet smile, Airachnid switched to English as she cooed at him, "Yes, Jack, see who's here." The Insecticon looked up at the Decepticon leader, her face twisting with disgust as she spat out, "The Great _Murderer_ of Cybertron."

Megatron had heard that term before, one he was branded by Autobot propaganda. He first heard it after his forces had invaded Praxus. He gave its people a choice: join him, or perish. They had chosen poorly, and the Decepticon leader ensured his army was _thorough_.

It wasn't until later that Megatron's own troops whispered the title among themselves, when their planet was poisoned and dying. Yet the warlord highly doubted Airachnid held any real affection for her homeworld, one that had discriminated and abused her and the rest of her breed. Megatron scoffed as he realized what this was all about.

"Of all the things, you choose to brood over _that_ ," he drawled in a bored tone.

Airachnid snarled at his nonchalance, fangs glinting in the moonlight. "You desecrated my kind."

"And my only mistake was not seeing the extermination through."

Suddenly Jack's eyes lit up with clarity, only to gape in horror at the sight of the warlord. The boy glanced above Megatron's helm, his eyes going wide as he saw something looming behind the dictator.

"Megatron! _Behind you_!"

Suddenly a distorted shriek assaulted the Decepticon's audios and a hostile EM field slapped against his. Megatron whirled around, only for a great mass to _slam_ into his chest. The titan grunted as he was dragged across the ground, sharp claws digging into his protoform. Acting quickly, Megatron rolled, bringing the thing along with him. Then using the attacker's own momentum against it, he planted his pedes into a hard exoskeleton and kicked hard.

There was a screech of protest as his assaulter went up and over, soaring through the air and then falling with a mighty crash. Megatron leaped to his pedes, venting heavily as he tried to cool his overheated frame. Only when he did, his optics went wide at the beast before him.

An Insecticon? On Earth? How?!

"I would like to introduce you to Hardshell," Airachnid announced, watching the scene like a spectator of a gladiatorial arena. "How about you two get acquainted?"

The vermin was already back on its feet, chelicerae clicking together excitedly as it sang another war cry.

Megatron was not intimidated, glaring at Hardshell and filling his field with dominance. _"Bow before Megatron, your_ _ **leader**_ _."_

Hardshell did not bow. Suddenly his plating shifted and there was an off-kilter sound of transformation. Megatron glared at the beast changed form before him.

The Insecticon resembled an organic beetle, but it was not like one that the Earth could never produce. The huge bulk stood on six spiked legs, each ending in sharp pincers. A pair of massive, curved horns rested on top of his helm and oddly-shaped wings fluttered on his back. Without warning, the beast lunged forward in a blur of movement.

Megatron raised his cannon. _"I said_ _ **bow**_ _—"_

He was cut off as suddenly Hardshell was upon him, slipping his horns underneath him. Before the warlord had the chance to react, the Insecticon scooped him up and tossed him into the air as if he weighed nothing. Megatron's processor spun at the disorienting motion, and his opponent gave him no chance to recover.

There was the sound of rapid fluttering of wings as Hardshell leaped into the air after him. Megatron howled as a horn sliced across the cables of his neck, sending sparks and energon flying. The warlord was vaguely aware of a wail from Jack as the pain echoed across the blood-bond.

Megatron's unwilling flight was interrupted as Hardshell once again caught him with his horns. But instead of vaulting him up again, the beast twisted his helm and sent the titan speeding back to the Earth. The Insecticon unleashed a volley of energon, the superheated bolts digging into thick armor. Megatron crashed back to the ground, sending a pillar of debris into the air.

The force of impact had created a crater around him and there was certainly a crack in his armor. The Decepticon leader groaned as he lifted himself all fours. Megatron rubbed the dust from his eyes as he slowly climbed to his pedes, only he was not allowed that luxury.

There was another sound of transformation and without his wings, Hardshell fell—right on top of the tyrant. Megatron roared as his back was slammed against the stone and his arms were pinned to his sides. There was the groan of denting metal as the Insecticon placed nearly all his weight on his chest, effectively keeping him in place. The former gladiator thrashed anyway, trying to rip free from his captor's hold.

 _"_ _FINISH HIM!"_ Airachnid screamed.

Without warning, fangs were at his throat, eager to sink into his protoform.

"NO! Megatrooon!" Jack cried out, flinching in phantom pain.

Megatron twisted and tilted his chin, preventing access to his main fuel lines. He wiggled, but he couldn't get any leverage. But this was not the first time the ex-gladiator was in such a position. With a growl, the warlord collided his helm with the Insecticon's sensitive maw. Hardshell wailed as he reared back, his grip loosening just enough for Megatron to pull his arms free and seize a pair of broken chelicerae.

The crushing hold made the Insecticon scream louder, scrambling back as he tried to free himself. Megatron allowed Hardshell to drag him back to his pedes, but he denied the creature freedom by readjusting his grasp on the horn. The warlord turned, bringing his protesting captive with him. With a mighty roar, he flung the beast through the air.

Hardshell could not recover his flight, smashing into a wall with a terrible noise. The bug slid to the ground in a shower of broken boulders, letting out a low moan. Airachnid winced, optics widening and claws curling in anxiousness.

It was Megatron's turn to smirk.

 _"_ _You and your beast will do well to remember_ — _"_ The great Champion unsheathed his great sword and raised his voice to a powerful bellow as if he were addressing a roaring crowd. _"_ — _I HONED MY SKILLS IN THE PITS OF KAON!"_

* * *

Arcee stepped out of the groundbridge, her twin blasters already primed and ready. Instead of Airachnid's ugly face, the femme was greeted with dark stone walls.

"Underground. That's a surprise," Arcee muttered sarcastically.

It was typical that the Insecticon would be hiding in her natural habitat, in the darkness under the planet's surface. Knowing the scheming spider all too well, the Autobot slowly turned, her optics scanning the surrounding rock. She found no compound optics, and any sign of Cybertronian life, of that matter. She even checked the ceiling.

Still, Arcee didn't let her guard down. It didn't mean that Airachnid wasn't lurking somewhere nearby, waiting to strike. Her thoughts were interrupted when the green light that illuminated the tunnel disappeared, as the groundbridge closed with a sudden _snap_.

Well, it was too late to go back, now. Optimus—or rather, Ratchet—would be furious once he realized she had taken an unauthorized groundbridge, especially considering she was removed from field missions. No doubt the Prime would assemble a team once he discovered her ruse. But if she found Jack, then Optimus couldn't be too mad, could he? It was the Autobot leader that stressed that they had to protect their human allies. And Arcee would do just that.

The two-wheeler slowly, cautiously began to travel down the dark corridor. The space was narrow, even for her small size. Arcee's wings scraped against the ceiling and she felt the stone pressing against her, suffocating her. Just like when Airachnid had captured her, keeping her in that _cell_ —

 _No_. Arcee rapidly shook her head, trying to banish the dark memories that threatened to rise to the surface. No, she couldn't go there. She couldn't shut down now. Not when Jack needed her.

" _You're tough to scrap,"_ Starscream's sneer echoed in her mind. _"Tougher to scrap than your former partner."_

Arcee wasn't going to allow another partner to be taken away from her. She would avenge Tailgate and Cliffjumper's deaths. Airachnid was going to _pay_ , and their bitter rivalry would _end_.

The Autobot kept her pedes light and quiet, her finials twitching in the air as she listened for the faintest of sounds. Soon, she was rewarded.

Arcee paused as she heard the echoes of demonic growls and violent thuds. What was that? Airachnid? No… The sounds were deeper, coming from something larger…

As the femme traveled farther, the orchestra of battle became louder and louder, until the walls reverberated like it was thunder. Summoning her courage, Arcee continued until the tunnel opened up to a wide cavern, with a great skylight taking up the ceiling far above. The femme balanced on a ledge the upper reaches of the chamber, overlooking the entire cave. Allowing her to see the horrid sight before her.

Arcee's optics became as wide and bright as twin moons at the monstrous Insecticon. It looked like just like the thousands that would descend on Autobot forces, during the War for Cybertron. But how did it get here on Earth, millions of light years away? The two-wheeler's tanks rolled as she realized.

Cybertronians have been traveling to Earth for eons, hoarding energon and precious supplies. Insecticons were natural scavengers. It wasn't unfathomable that the pests followed the voyagers to steal the resources for themselves. It was likely this one was no different.

The Insecticon was screeching in absurdly loud volumes, jumping from one side of the cavern to another with its odd wings fluttering rapidly. Its maw was chomping madly and it raked its wicked claws at… Megatron?! What was _he_ doing here?!

The Decepticon leader was oblivious to Arcee's presence, solely focused on his opponent. He weaved and spun in a speed and grace that defied his bulky frame, slicing and clawing and shooting. Every time the Insecticon would charge forward, Megatron effortlessly side-stepped the attack. The beast would then try to use its extra claw-like appendages to swipe at him, but the former Champion met each one with his wicked sword.

Yet whenever Megatron tried to counter, the Insecticon would retreat in a movement too quick to follow. And when the dictator _did_ manage to land a blow, he could not pierce the beast's thick hide. He left more grooves and dents than actual wounds, while Megatron was already leaking from several cuts.

But why was the Insecticon attacking the Decepticon? The creatures had sworn fealty to the Decepticons. They would _never_ attack their lord and master. Unless—

Each Insecticon colony was connected by a single hive mind, sharing the same emotions, the same thoughts. Specifically, the thoughts of single mind. The most intelligent, strongest, and largest of the hive, one who could dominate all the others. An alpha. A _queen_. Airachnid.

It only made sense that the wretched femme managed to take control of hive, and the Insecticon was carrying out her will. Which was apparently killing Megatron. Airachnid was lurking upon her self-made web, her lips curled in a wicked smile and her compound optics filled with a sadistic gleam. And she was not alone.

Jack looked miserable, stuck like a fly in a spider's web. His skin was a sickly pale and his entire body was trembling. His watery eyes were wide with horror. No doubt the poor thing was scared to death. Arcee could not blame him, with his captor pressed so close to him and two monsters ripping each other apart before him.

Airachnid must have orchestrated this convergence, in hopes that everyone she hated would destroy each other. But she would be sorely disappointed.

Slowly, cautiously, Arcee began to scale down the wall. She made sure to stay out of sight, leaping from ledge to the other. Thankfully the ferocious roars and clashes of metal managed to muffle her movement. Airachnid was oblivious as the two-wheeler settled on the rocks above her.

Arcee balanced on her haunches, braced to pounce, to attack. To slay the monster once and for all—

The rock around her exploded.

Without warning, the ledge beneath the femme vanished into nothing and gravity took hold of her frame. Arcee wailed as she was sent head over heels down the ravine, the stone falling around her in a rock slide. Her landing was no more graceful, slamming into the cavern floor in a tangle of limbs. She grunted as she tried to correct herself, clumsily rolling into a crouch.

Only to meet the barrel of Megatron's fusion cannon.

 _"_ _Well, isn't this a surprise,"_ the warlord mused darkly, his crimson optics burning dangerously. Between the malicious glare and his frame covered in his own energon, Megatron made a menacing sight, but Arcee refused to be intimidated.

She glared right back, even when she heard Jack's gasp, like he had seen a ghost. "A-Arcee?!"

The femme went to move towards her partner, only to freeze as suddenly Megatron's fusion cannon let out a deadly hum. The barrel illuminated with a violet glow, shining onto the Autobot's face. She began to wonder how many Autobots and Decepticons had seen this sight before their deaths. Arcee braced for the end to come. Only it never did.

Suddenly a vicious screech filled the air and the earth trembled. Megatron was ripped away from Arcee's vision as the Insecticon barreled into him. The former Champion howled as he dragged to the ground, the much larger creature placing all its weight on him.

The Insecticon tried to bite him like he was a meal, chelicerae madly clicking together. Megatron could only raise his arms in defense, but it was a costly mistake. He bellowed as fangs buried into the base of his fusion cannon, where the mighty weapon met the inner circuity of his arm. The light of barrel flickered, before it shut off altogether as its energy source was severed.

Megatron let out another scream that almost made Arcee cringe. She heard the forced removal of a mod was painful.

The Decepticon leader balled his servo into a fist and _slammed_ it into the Insecticon's helm. The sickening crunch of metal was drowned by the creature's yowl of pain. As the dazed Insecticon fell to the side, Megatron scrambled out from underneath it. That was when Arcee took her chance.

She lunged forward in a burst of speed, activating her blades. Megatron had just made it to his pedes when her advance. With an enraged snarl, he slashed his broad sword at her, which was apparently still operational after the Insecticon's mauling. Arcee reacted quickly, leaping with graceful agility just as the blade swiped through the air she just occupied. The two-wheeler flipped over Megatron, twisting to slice both blades across the warlord's back.

Megatron let out a nasty growl and Jack let out an odd cry.

"Stop it! Don't hurt him!" teenager wailed, fruitlessly tugging against his bonds.

Stop? Why? It was Megatron's fault this was happening in the first place. Arcee must have misheard him. Or the tyrant fed Jack so many lies the poor boy couldn't tell delusion from reality anymore.

 _Don't worry, Jack. I'll kill him. And we'll all be free of his tyranny._

Arcee landed on the ground in a practiced crouch, only for Megatron to whirl around with a violent look. The two-wheeler bounced into the air again as he struck at her a second time. She landed a volley of kicks to the ex-gladiator's face, satisfied at his grunts of pain as he was sent reeling back and crashing into a boulder.

Now there was—

Suddenly claws seized Arcee's frame in a crushing grip and she wailed as she was thrown to the ground. The stone beneath her cracked from the sheer force and her helm spun from the impact. Yet when her splintered vision finally focused, she was only greeted with a lubricant-laced maw before her face. Arcee cringed in disgust and promptly transformed her servos into blasters.

She opened fired, unleashing a volley of energon into the Insecticon's face. The scavenger _shrieked_ , jumping back and clawing at its ruined optics.

" _No!_ " Airachnid cried out, watching as her pet was rendered useless.

But Arcee couldn't care less about the Insecticon. Let Megatron take what was left of it. She only came for one thing.

The Autobot leaped to her pedes, her furious gaze locking with Airachnid's. The spider hissed, even moving back, as if she could escape Arcee's wrath. The two-wheeler easily scaled the ravine leading up the Insecticon's web, barreling into Airachnid with a furious screech. The spider was ripped from her web as the pair of femmes crashed into the ground in a tangle of limbs.

They didn't bother to break apart, instead clawing, biting, and screeching at each other like a pair of vicious cats. Arcee finally tore free by slamming her pedes into Airachnid's middle and sending flying back into the web. With unnatural grace, the Autobot flipped back to her pedes, her cooling fans on full blast. Energon seeped from deep cuts she received from the bloody exchange, but the femme was filled with satisfaction when she noticed that Airachnid didn't seem to fair any better.

Jack was struggling again, pulling against his bonds with strained growls. There was a terrible noise, signaling Megatron had likely engaged the Insecticon again. The sound made the boy flinch with a pitiful whimper.

The sound seemed to attract Airachnid, the huntress turning her hungry gaze towards the boy. Fangs glinted in the moonlight and Arcee's spark jumped in its casing.

"Airachnid—" the Autobot started, moving forward, but she was too late.

Without warning, Airachnid lashed out with her blade-like appendages, slicing the bonds around Jack. The teenager let out a startled yelp as he fell to the ground, only for the sound to be cut off as the Insecticon's claws snatched him mid-air. She pinned her catch to her belly, dashing away just as Arcee lunged, only to slash at webbing.

Airachnid scurried across the web in a blur of movement, ducking into the dark abyss of a tunnel, Jack's protesting the entire way.

"Ngh, let me down! Gah! _Help_!"

"No!" Megatron bellowed as his pet disappeared from his sight. "Vile—ARGH!"

His rant was interrupted with a shout of pain as the much larger Insecticon tackled him to the ground. Arcee wasted no time. She tore down the tunnel, giving chase. Only when the darkness swallowed her, a ball of webbing appeared from the blackness.

With supreme reflexes, the two-wheeler dodged to the side, only to be greeted by another. Another and another and another. Arcee weaved her way through the volley with graceful acrobatics, her frame flipping and twisting in ways that few Cybertronians could. It made Airachnid hiss in rage.

The Insecticon was springing from one wall to another, further and further away from her determined pursuer. Jack was pressed against her middle like valuable cargo, half-thrashing about to escape and half-clinging on at the fast, jolting movements. But Arcee was faster.

With a yell, the two-wheeler lunged forward, closing the distance between her and Airachnid. She slammed into the Insecticon's side, sending all three of them into the ground with joined cries. Only when they fell to the floor, the world tilted and Arcee felt gravity seize her in a vise grip. She kept her hold on Airachnid as they tumbled down a steep slope, the earth spinning around them in a dizzying speed.

The disorientating motion seemed to last for an eternity, and even then, the end came too soon. Arcee cried out as her shoulder struck solid stone, so hard that the femmes lost their grasp on each other. As well as Jack.

The human wailed as he went skidding across the ground like a ragdoll, coming to an uncomfortable stop several yards away.

"Jack!" Arcee cried out.

She stumbled to her pedes, her processor still spinning, but forced herself to move forward. She reached out, to take her partner in her arms, only for a wicked black shadow to pass before her. Airachnid let out a sharp hiss her venomous fangs flashed in the darkness. Suddenly sickly green acid flew, filling Arcee's vision.

The Autobot reared back with a disgusted snarl, just as the vile poison struck the soil before her. An unnatural hiss reached Arcee's audios, and she looked down, only for her optics to widen in horror. The acid was eating away at the earth, with a thin, translucent steam rising into the air.

Airachnid rushed forward in a streak of movement. Jack had just pushed himself to his hands and knees when servos shoved him back down. He squeaked as claws dug into his scalp and raked across his back, keeping him in place. The sight looked like a predator pinning its prey, complete with Airachnid's feral grin.

 _"_ _I have to say, Arcee, you're quite determined to watch another partner die,"_ the wretch purred.

The Autobot growled at the words, her voice low and dangerous as she demanded, _"What did you do to him?"_

 _"_ _I did nothing."_

Jack let out another pitiful whimper as he suddenly flinched, violently. Arcee's wings raised in distress at the event.

 _"_ _He's in pain!"_

 _"_ _Because of_ _ **you**_. _You left him at the mercy of Megatron, you left him to be tortured by MECH. Any pain he is suffering now, it is_ _ **your**_ _fault!"_

Each word was like a blade: piercing Arcee's armor, borrowing through her protoform and into her spark. She tried to rip them out, but Airachnid's accusation danced in circles in her processor. Was… was this her fault?

If Arcee had found Jack in the mines first, Megatron would have never taken him. If she had stayed with him that night after Paris, he would not have been kidnapped by MECH. None of this would have happened. Arcee's wings quivered without her permission. If it wasn't for her…

Airachnid noticed her distress, and went on in a mocking tone, " _At some point, you really need to ask yourself: 'Is it them, or is it me?' Tailgate is dead. Cliffjumper is dead. And now you have failed Jack. Your_ _ **partner**_ _."_

Arcee flattened her audio finials, as if it would block out her horrible voice, but it was fruitless. Airachnid smiled, her fangs dripping with venom.

 _"_ _Because you can't protect_ _ **anyone**_ _."_

Her compound optics flashed with malicious intent. It was only warning before the Insecticon pounced, but not towards Arcee. The guardian could only watch with horror as Airachnid's fangs dug into Jack's neck, sinking into his skin and into his veins.

And the boy's piercing scream filled the darkness of the underground.


	24. Venom

**Sorry for the slow updates, everyone, school has been KILLING me. However, I had a burst of inspiration for this fic, so I decided to post this. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Also, to the guest review, although an interesting concept, I have no plans to include Chromia and Elita One.**

* * *

 _"_ _No!"_ Arcee screamed. "JACK!"

Almost as if in reply, her charge let out a harsh, ragged screech—filled with raw, unimaginable agony—so loud that it grated against the Autobot's audios. He thrashed under Airachnid's grip, trying to dislodge the Insecticon from his neck. She pulled away, leaving behind two puncture holes between Jack's collarbone and his neck, bubbling with acidic slime. Airachnid looked all too gleeful as venom and blood dripped from her denta. _Jack_ 's blood.

Arcee's vision turned red.

She transformed her arms into blasters and with a vicious scream of her own, began to open fire. Blue superheated energon flew, peppering Airachnid's pitch-black armor. The wretched femme hissed, raising her arms in defense. To escape the onslaught, the Insecticon launched herself upward, attaching to the ceiling above.

It was then Airachnid curled her claws and her palms began to glow a scorching crimson. It was the only warning before the Decepticon attacked. Energon rained down like crimson fire, promising death. Acting quickly, Arcee flipped backwards, the energon hitting stone every time her pedes raised into the air. The game ended when the Autobot skidded to a halt, raising her blasters and aiming at the rock surrounding Airachnid.

The spider wailed as her foundation crumbled, sending falling back to the ground in a shower of debris. There was a painful _crunch_ of metal as she landed. However, Arcee's victory was short-lived as Airachnid scrambled to her pedes, untangling her twisted appendages.

Her fangs were bared and her optics burned brightly, filling Arcee with satisfaction. Airachnid was angry, now. Good. Now there wouldn't be any more games.

 _"_ _If I can't have Megatron's spark, then I'll just take yours!"_ the huntress promised darkly. _"With Jack's head as my new trophy!"_

 _"_ _That's not going to happen,"_ Arcee growled lowly.

The two-wheeler pounced. With a vicious battle cry, she closed the distance between them, but this time Airachnid was ready. The Insecticon batted aside Arcee's bladed attack and twisted to send a kick to the Autobot's helm. The blue femme instinctively ducked, only to see a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. Arcee seethed as a blade of an appendage sliced across her abdomen, spilling energon.

But she didn't let it hinder her, staying focused on the fight. Airachnid was a whirlwind of movement, sending kicks and punches towards the Autobot. Her extensions twisted and struck out like snakes. Arcee met each strike with her own, slashing with her blades and firing with her blasters. She received several more cuts, two across her arms, one on her leg, and even across her back when Airachnid raked her claws down her dorsal armor. But Arcee had landed a few blows of her own, the Insecticon's exoskeleton covered in dents and scratches.

Each was fighting to kill and not to be killed. It was a fight to the death, yet neither could land the fatal blow.

Arcee raised her arm-blades just as Airachnd lashed out with two of her appendages, the weapons interlocking and the femmes' faceplates an inch apart.

 _"_ _Why can't you just_ _ **die**_ _?!"_ Airachnid hissed as she shoved against the Autobot, but was met with equal strength.

" _Because I won't abandon my_ _ **family**_ _!"_

Arcee twisted her blades, snapping the appendage pinned between them. The Insecticon screamed as her protoform was severed, the piece flying through the air before its tip burying into the ground. While Arachnid was still reeling in pain, Arcee seized another. That one too was broken in half as easily and as painful as the first. Airachnid swiped out in rage, but Arcee anticipated the attack. She danced around her rival, slicing off the appendages one by one.

Each time she was greeted with a scream, each one filled with more rage than the last. The femme's relentless assault ended when Arcee kicked out at Airachnid's heel, taking the femme's legs out from under her. With no extra limbs to catch her, the Insecticon fell to the ground in a heap with a wail. Airachnid quickly rolled over to all fours, trying to climb back to her pedes, but it was clumsy. Arcee made no movement to help her, glaring down at her rival with hateful red optics.

 _"_ _When you extinguish my spark, make it hurt,"_ Airachnid spoke, her body trembling with pain and exhaustion. She looked up at the Autobots, her compound optics still filled with that sickly sweet gleam. She gave a warm smile, as if Arcee was her friend. _"You know I would extend that courtesy to you."_

Arcee only shook her helm, her voice cold, _"I'm not like you."_

 _"_ _Very well."_

Airachnid let out a vicious hiss, leaping forward with her venomous fangs bared, aimed for the Autobot's neck.

Arcee did not move, did not flinch away. She twisted her arm, raising it to meet Airachnid's attack. Slicing her razor-sharp blades into the Insecticon's neck cables. It cleaved through wires, fuel lines, and thick, sturdy struts. There was a horrible sound of tearing metal, sparks and energon tearing through the air.

There was no agonized scream, like Arcee expected. The motion was too fast for that.

Airachnid's helm went soaring through the air. It almost felt like time seemed to slow, the image stilling for several long moments, until finally, the decapitated head clattered to the ground. Airachnid's expression was still frozen in a haunting look: lips pulled back in a snarl and her optics wide and full of bloodlust. They flickered as the last of the energon cycled through the Insecticon's processor.

Arcee wondered if Airachnid was still conscious, if she could still see. She wondered what she saw. Arcee's cold glare, or the gateway to the Pit?

Then, finally, violet optics turned black.

Arcee let out a long sigh, raging red optics coolimg to calm blue. It was over.

Airachnid was dead.

But there was no sense of victory, not when a desperate, pained sob sounded. Arcee whirled around, only to find that Jack had not moved from his spot. He was curled in a fetal position, fingers clawing at the ground beneath him and his teeth grinding against each other. He was trembling, even though his pale skin was coated in sweat.

The skin around the bite mark was an angry red and horribly swollen. Pus, blood, and venom was oozing from the ugly wound, staining Jack's neck and shirt in his own fluids. Suddenly the poor teenager let out an odd, strangled noise, and Arcee had been around humans enough to recognize it.

Acting quickly, she raced over to Jack. She gingerly turned him to his side, lifting him off the ground, just in time for the human to throw up the contents of his stomach. Arcee could only hold him, lamely rubbing his back as his body tried to purge the poison from his system. She tried to ignore the green and purple hues, mixing together in a revolting soup.

Then Jack started convulsing. His body twitched at unnatural angles and his limbs flailed aimlessly.

"No, no! Jack!" Arcee gasped.

All she could do was hold him in place, trying to prevent him from hurting himself. She cradled his head and hoped he wouldn't bite his own tongue. Arcee counted each agonizing second during the seizure, until finally the violent spasms lessened, and clarity returned to Jack's glazed eyes. His chest was still heaving, his mouth gaping as he gasped like a fish out of water.

"'Rcee?" the teenager murmured, when he finally registered his guardian leaning over him.

"I'm here, partner, I'm here," Arcee replied in a soft voice, holding him even tighter. She wasn't sure if Jack understood her, as he gave no reaction. His watery eyes drooped.

"'Mm srry," he slurred.

Arcee's spark almost malfunctioned. Here Jack was, poisoned, bleeding, and traumatized, and he was _sorry_? How could someone so tortured be so _kind_? And he was only rewarded by those that wanted to corrupt his pure heart.

"N-no, it's not your fault," Arcee spoke, trying to keep her voice from cracking. She gently stroked his hair, brushing his soaked bangs from his brow. "None of this is your fault. We're going to get you home."

"Humm," Jack echoed, his eyes sliding close. "Wan' mmmeh…"

He ended with a groan as his head slumped onto Arcee's shoulder, unconscious. His breath still came out ragged and his body was far too hot. The guardian held him with impossible tenderness as she rose to her pedes, like he could crumble into dust at any moment. Arcee failed to hide the tremor from her voice, and the drop of coolant that spilled from her optic.

"Hold on, partner."

* * *

Why couldn't anything be _easy_?

Megatron was supposed to be back on the _Nemesis_ by now _._ Instead, that cretin Arcee had showed up and Airachnid scurried away with Jack. And he was stuck fighting a blind Insecticon.

Rather than awarding him with an advantage, Hardshell became even more sporadic. He mindlessly swatted the air around him, claws and fangs slashing in all directions. The raging beast clumsily chased Megatron, using his other heightened senses to hunt his prey. The warlord tried to reign in his field, but Hardshell would lock onto his scent and barrel after him.

Megatron grew tired of it. With a fierce roar, he dug his heels into the ground and twisted to face the charging Insecticon. The Decepticon threw a mighty punch, right into Hardshell's chest. There was an awful _crunch_ of metal as the plating caved inwards with such force a web of cracks formed.

The bug went stumbling back from the blow, shrieking in pain, but Megatron did not let his prey get away. He took hold of the Insecticon's extra appendages, pulling them taut. The beast whined at the strain and there was the sound of tearing mesh. In seconds the appendages were only attached by thin strings of wires, voltage dancing between the gap. With a growl, the former gladiator raised his pede and slammed it against Hardshell's torso.

The monster screeched was it went flying, its limbs snapping off. The things writhed and twisted in Megatron's grip as the last of bits of electricity course through them. The Decepticon tossed them away without a second thought and took his chance.

He charged forward, plunging his sword straight through the large crevice in Hardshell's chest. The Insecticon went wild, screaming and clawing at Megatron, but the warlord ignored the onslaught and forced his blade through ridiculously thick armor. Until, _finally_ , energy zapped Megatron's arm and Hardshell went rigid.

The Decepticon leader had skewered the monster's spark.

With a grunt, Megatron slid his sword free, only a gush of energon to splash over his frame. He watched as Hardshell's optics turned black. The Insecticon stood upright for a solid second until gravity took hold of the husk. It fell with a great thud, the ground reverberating from the force.

Megatron stumbled away, panting heavily. His cooling fans were on full blast, trying to expel the heat of battle from his frame. Numerous wounds littered his frame, sending prickles of pain coursing through his neural net.

But he had _won._

 _"_ _Let that be a warning to anyone that dares challenge a gladiator of Kaon!"_ Megatron bellowed to any that could hear, raising his fists in victory. _"Whether they be Decepticon—"_

Suddenly there was a horrible sound of something crashing on the ground, shattering stone and shaking the earth. There was another crash, followed by another, each one louder and heavier than the last.

 _"—_ _or Autobot…"_

Megatron's crimson optics flashed at the sight of Optimus Prime. The Guardian Knight's faceplates were covered by his battle mask, so that only his frigid blue optics could be seen. He transformed both his servos into swords, glinting dangerously in the moonlight. Bumblebee and Bulkhead flanked Megatron, each aiming their cannons at the Decepticon leader.

Megatron only scoffed. He defeated one enemy tonight, he would terminate another!

He stepped forward, to drive his sword through the Prime's chest. Only when he did, white-hot agony flared right between his clavicle armor and the cables of his neck. Snarling, Megatron instinctively reached up, only for his servo to slap smooth, flawless metal. What? There was no wound there!

Suddenly the pain spread to consume his entire body. Megatron howled. His processor spun at the sudden assault, desperately trying to locate the source only to find none. The violent change threw his systems off calibration. Gears groaned and suddenly his stabilizers were no longer able to bear his weight. Megatron let out a very un-warlord-like cry as he crumbled to the floor.

The Decepticon's HUD flashed with messages, only for his vision to shatter into a thousand pieces. There was a piercing ring in his audios, like a warning toll. Megatron had to clamp his armor onto his protoform to prevent it from shivering, despite his frame was so _hot_. His veins burned like an inferno.

Venom from the Insecticon? No, the monster's poisonous fangs had not pierced his protoform, he was sure of it. Then what was—

Megatron realized. This pain was _Jack's_. What had that atrocious harpy done to him?!

The tyrant attempted to climb to his pedes, only for his frame to shudder, refusing to move. Optimus Prime only watched, his stoic mask betraying no pity, no emotion. Megatron _hated_ that look.

Was the Autobot leader secretly laughing at the irony of it all? It was only a matter of months ago Megatron was precisely in the same position: weak, immobile, vulnerable. At least Jack had the decency to look surprised.

He still remembered that exchange, each word filled with their own twisted sense of righteousness.

 _"_ _You might as well use your drill to finish me…. I guarantee you will never have a better opportunity."_

 _"_ _No. Not like this."_

Megatron blinked the memory away and met the Prime's glare with his own.

 _"_ _So, tell me, Optimus, do you intend to take me alive?"_ the Decepticon leader spat. _"Or end this here and now?"_

There was a long pause and air became heavy with tense, crackling fields. The Autobots exchanged wary glances, yet Optimus's glare did not stray. The Prime narrowed his optics, ever so slightly. Then he transformed his blade into a double-barreled cannon, aiming it at Megatron's helm.

Poor, naïve Jack.

The Decepticon warlord showed no fear, no remorse, as Optimus's weapon hummed. He braced for the end to come, but fate was a funny thing.

The execution was interrupted by the sound of light, tentative steps reached his audios. The quarreling leaders turned at the sound, only for both to widen their optics at the sight that greeted them.

Jack was in Arcee's arms, but it was obvious something was wrong. He was curled in on himself, shivering against the Autobots's warm chest. His pale skin and clothes were covered in his own bodily fluids. Although his eyes were closed, his face was scrunched up in pain. Megatron could hear the human's pitiful whimpers despite the distance between them.

Arcee didn't even seem aware of her baffled audience, staring down at her charge with dim, remorseful optics. Her frame looked horribly small, with her plating clamped down and her wings pressed against her back.

 _"_ _Arcee? What happened?"_ Bulkhead gasped, completely forgetting about the dictator at his pedes. _"Where's Airachnid?"_

 _"_ _Gone,"_ Arcee answered, so quietly Megatron had to strain to hear. She didn't seem very celebratory that her vicious tormenter was terminated. Then like she knew what they were all thinking, she added with a shaking voice, _"Airachnid injected Jack with venom."_

While the Autobots gasped in shock quite dramatically, Megatron narrowed his optics as his theory was only confirmed. Finally, Arcee looked up, her burning glare trained on the Decepticon leader.

 _"_ _You did this_ ," she snarled.

Typical Autobot, so illogical.

 _"_ _I did no such thing,"_ Megatron retorted. _"_ _ **I**_ _protected him, when you could not."_ Arcee's optics flashed with anger and the tyrant took it as permission to continue. _"Now he will die, because of_ _ **you**_ _."_

He was amazed that Jack was even still alive. An Insecticon's venom could kill a large Cybertronian within mere moments.

Arcee let out a harsh snarl at his words, even launching forward as if to pounce. Only when she did, she disturbed the fragile human in her grip and Jack let out a weak cry. The femme instinctively froze, looking down with guilt at her rashness.

 _"_ _The venom will kill him, you know that,"_ Megatron went on, his voice full of utter certainty. _"Unless you return him to me."_

Optimus shifted his glare to his rival so fast it almost seemed his helm would break off. The Autobots erupted with protests.

 _"_ _No way!"_ Bumblebee whined.

 _"_ _Like in the Pit we are going to let that happen!"_ Bulkhead bellowed.

 _"_ _The Insecticons served_ _ **me**_ _,"_ Megatron continued, ignoring the fact he was rudely interrupted. _"Did you think I would let them join my ranks without taking precautions?_ " When the Autobots just stared dumbly, he explained, _"We have an_ _ **antidote**_ _. Return Jack to me, and I will be able to cure him."_

Megatron relished it when Optimus Prime hesitated, even though his answer would be far too predictable. He always had a soft spot for weak, lesser creatures, especially his human pets. After all, it was his duty to protect all sentient life. Megatron wanted to grin despite the agony, but Optimus did not allow him that luxury.

 _"_ _Your intervention is unnecessary, Megatron,"_ the Prime spoke, and he had the audacity to sound _smug_. _"As we possess an antidote of our own."_

Megatron's processor stalled. _What_? How?! The Autobots couldn't possibly—

The tyrant turned back to Arcee, and he saw. Pale, little nicks across her neck, arms and legs. Identical the bloody gashes on Jack's neck. Then Megatron remembered.

Airachnid had quite the habit of poisoning her prisoners, in hopes the excruciating pain would make them talk before their demise. Judging by the sheer numbers of the scars, the Insecticon must have made several attempts on Arcee. Yet she had survived. Because she was _immune_. All thanks to the antidote.

 _"_ _Young Jackson is coming with us,"_ Optimus declared.

 _No!_ Megatron went to lunge for the arrogant Prime, only to freeze at a new sound. It was like a rumble of thunder, the walls reverberating across the chamber. The sound grew louder and louder, until it became a deafening roar, one they all recognized. Blue optics widened in horror and red optics flared. The surprises never creased.

Megatron glanced up, just as a rain of red energon fell from the sky. The chasm erupted into chaos: startled and pained screams rang out, battle cries echoed, dust and smoke flew into the air, and there was there was the orchestra of transformations and heavy thuds of landings. Cannons charged and the dark stone walls were replaced by deep purple metal.

 _"_ _Oh… scrap,"_ Bulkhead cursed at the Decepticon army that appeared to fill the entire cavern.

They completely surrounded the Autobots, the Eradicons' visors glaring at their enemies with disdain. Megatron's captors had shifted their attention from him to the newfound threat, but there were far too many to focus their weapons on a single one. The dictator spied Arcee ducking back into the shadows, Jack still in her arms. Apparently the two-wheeler was too reluctant to let go of her prize, even as several drones aimed their blasters at her.

Megatron was only confused. He had not called for reinforcements. What was his army doing here? Then the tyrant spotted a flash of royal blue.

 _Of course._ Dreadwing was a Seeker captain. He was more than capable of taking a large legion of troops under his command. But what was that fool doing? Megatron had ordered him not to follow!

 _"_ _Release Megatron to us, and I will allow you to live,"_ Dreadwing growled, his massive cannon aimed at Optimus Prime.

For his credit, the Autobot leader's weapon never wavered from Megatron's helm. He had his other cannon aimed at the closest Decepticon and he glared at Seeker captain resentfully. Bulkhead, on the other servo, could not find a target, waving his cannons back and forth at various Eradicons until he finally landed on Dreadwing.

 _"_ _Never trust a 'Con!"_ he spat venomously. _"Kick Buckethead's bucket!"_

If the situation had been different, Megatron would have rolled his optics at the Wrecker's boisterous yell. Instead, he narrowed his optics to slits as he glared up at Optimus. The Prime's cold optics met his heated ones, each leader sizing the other, challenging each other.

Then finally, Optimus broke the contest of wills, demanding, _"Dreadwing, do I have your word?"_

Dreadwing scoffed. _"There was a time I once served you Primes, until I found the High Council spoke of falsehoods and dishonor. It was then I chose to follow my own honor."_

With that, the Seeker disengaged his monstrous weapon and holstered it onto his back. He raised a raised servo in a gesture, and the reaction was immediate. The Eradicons deactivated their weapons and cautiously straightened, awaiting further command.

Meanwhile, Optimus gestured to his own subordinates. With a reluctant grumble, Bulkhead lowered his cannons and walked over to his leader, Bumblebee trailing behind. There was the sound of quiet pedes as Arcee slinked out of her hiding place.

 _"_ _My liege,"_ Dreadwing's voice crooned from above Megatron.

Servos fell across the warlord's back, supportive, but the former Champion instinctively shied away from the touch. Megatron tried to save whatever was left of his dignity but shakily climbing to his pedes. Then Jack let out a cry.

Megatron could not stop the shout that echoed from him as fire coursed through his body yet again. The Decepticon leader crumbled, the stone floor rushing up to meet him. Before it could slam into him, strong arms caught his chest. As Dreadwing was smaller than the mighty gladiator, he awkwardly supported Megatron's weight as he hoisted him back to his pedes.

It took all the energy he had left to stand upright, barely able to detect Jack's whimpers. His face was twisted in agony, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth open in a silent scream.

Arcee cried out at the event, shouting at Jack, like he was _hers_. It made Megatron's tremble in rage. He wanted nothing more to rip his pet from her grip and give the order to destroy them all. Dreadwing have _his_ word, but the Decepticon leader did not.

But if he did, Jack would no doubt be caught in the crossfire. Even if the boy survived the battle, could he survive on the _Nemesis_? Knock Out was more of a gamble than a solution. He was a surgeon, not a chemist, and he had only been trained to perform routine surgeries. The medic would not know how to properly administer the antidote.

…If only Megatron still had _him._

The Decepticon leader came to a realization. If he took Jack now, the human would perish. Megatron had spent far too much time and effort for him to die now. But, if he wanted to keep his charge, he would have to gain the advantage over the war. And there was only one way that could be achieved.

Megatron had no choice.

 _"_ _Decepticons…"_ he tried to call out, but his voice only came out as a rasp, full of reluctant defeat. _"Retreat!"_

The Decepticon warlord did not wait for a reply. He did not spare his enemies a glance and he did not even look in Jack's direction. Instead, he transformed, gears grinding and plates scraping each other in a slow, painful process. With a blast of thrusters, Megatron was free of the confining chasm and was among the stars of the night sky.

There was a moment before that familiar thunder returned, as his legion struggled to keep up. The Eradicons kept their distance, and the tyrant wondered if they could detect his foul mood. However, one was not afraid to approach.

Dreadwing flew by Megatron's wing, though he remained a lower altitude for respect. His field was filled with apprehension. The warlord could not blame him. _No one_ disobeyed Lord Megatron.

 _"_ _You defied my orders by coming here,"_ the tyrant growled over the comms. Dreadwing's anxiety spiked, but Megatron did not give him the chance to fumble for excuses. " _You will make a fine first lieutenant."_

 _"_ _Lord Megatron, I am hon—"_

 _"_ _Now come. We have much work to do."_

With that, Megatron moved ahead with a roar of his afterburners. It was another long moment before the promoted Decepticon got over his surprise. He hurried to catch up, and they returned to the _Nemesis_ together.

* * *

The Autobots found Jack. After days and days of scouring through countless satellite and security feeds, of searching the entire world, _they found him_.

Lennox was still trying to wrap his mind around it as he stepped into the warehouse. It was filled with murmur of conversation and growls of machinery. Humid air slapped him in the face and the scent of oil, sweat, and salt tickled his nostrils. Yet Lennox's head still spun with disorientation because something was _different_.

He thought he was getting better at groundbridging. Behind him, Epps let out a dizzy groan and there a gag-like sound, followed a clumsy thud. Lennox supposed he should have warned Simmons, who had never used a groundbridge before. The only one that wasn't affected by the instant transportation was Ratchet.

"I told you that you did not have to come," the medic huffed.

Lennox had to swallowed the bile in his throat before straightening, assuring tiredly, "No, it's fine. I need to be here."

Seeing the man's determined look, the old Autobot only nodded curtly before moving away. Leaving Lennox and Epps to deal with a half-conscious Simmons. Epps only laughed at the agent, who had fallen to all fours, cradling his head in his hands.

"You said you wanted to come," the sergeant reminded him.

"How about next time you _stop_ me?" Simmons retorted.

He raised his head, blinking in confusion at their new surroundings. Instead of burly men walking around in fatigues, there were skinny, pale technicians dressed in dull garbs. Instead of Humvees and fighter jets, the warehouse was full of odd contraptions. The warehouse was _bigger_ than the ones of Diego Garcia, its ceiling high enough for even the largest of Cybertronians. But the hangar was not build for the Transformers.

Simmons moaned, "Where are we?"

"Cape Canaveral," Lennox answered.

"What the hell are we doing in Florida?"

"Because this where the research team is stationed."

Simmons just stared dumbly. "The _what_?"

"A group of scientists Optimus has stationed here on Earth."

The former Sector Seven agent sounded scandalized. "And you're just telling me about this _now_?"

"Yup," Epps drawled, walking over and bodily hauling Simmons to his feet. Although the disoriented man swayed, he managed to stay on his feet. "Consider it your lucky day."

"We had to keep their existence secret," Lennox explained. "If the enemy ever discovered their location, then the consequences would be catastrophic. So, they have been under the care and protection of NASA."

"NASA," Simmons repeated as he looked around, likely noticing the bright blue symbol littering their surroundings for the first time. "It's _always_ NASA."

The ground trembled then, strong enough that the surrounding equipment rattled. The floor beneath them rolled, but it wasn't as violent as an earthquake. Rather it was more rhythmic, slow. Like something _heavy_ striking the ground. Each tremor can with the sound of metal scraping each other, a sound Lennox was all too familiar with.

"Ratchet, what is the meaning of this?" a deep baritone rumbled from above the group.

The mech was taller than even Optimus, and his bulky, thick armor was just as broad. The bright blue plating reminded Lennox of the sky, almost welcoming. But as the man had to crane his neck back to see the Transformer's faceplates, he was greeted with a stern frown and hardened ice-blue optics.

Ultra Magnus's glare reminded Lennox of his drill sergeant from boot camp. The NEST commander had to kept himself from squirming underneath scrutinizing stare.

The Autobot's tone was as critical as it was accusing, "Why have you brought unauthorized personnel to our base of operations?"

A red and white ped appeared beside Lennox.

"This is Colonel Lennox, field commander of NEST," Ratchet introduced. "Along with Sergeant Epps and… Seymour Simmons… a consultant."

The medic seemed hesitant to introduce the former Sector Seven agent, who was staring at the gargantuan Autobot like a deer in headlights.

Ultra Magnus squinted. "Optimus Prime did not mention their arrival."

"They are here to see Jack," Ratchet defended calmly.

"The human youth?"

Ratchet nodded. Lennox took that as his chance to speak, demanding, "Where is he?"

"Med bay. I understand his condition is quite… severe."

Ultra Magnus's tone darkened at that, and Lennox's stomach knotted at the solemn words. Simmons shifted his weight and the muscles of Epps's jaw twitched as he grinded his teeth in a nervous tick. Ratchet's own faceplates grew somber.

"Take me to him," he ordered.

"Very well."

With that, Ultra Magnus turned and lumbered away. Ratchet moved after him, with the humans trailing behind. They hadn't even taken three steps when an elbow pressed against Lennox's ribs.

"Who's Tall, Dark, and Sullen?" Simmons asked lowly through gritted teeth, and the ex-Ranger assumed that was his way of being discreet.

"Ultra Magnus was Optimus's key lieutenant during the war back on Cybertron," Lennox explained. " _Very_ by the book. Just go along with it."

The lieutenant colonel had learned it was easier to humor a Cybertronian than to argue against them. Ultra Magnus was no exception.

"Mind telling me why he's NASA's new chief of security?"

"He leads the research team… in a way. He oversees the construction of the _Xanthium_."

"Zan- _what_?"

"Long story."

As they traveled to their destination, Lennox noticed the hangar was filled with excited, nervous energy. The technicians and scientists seemed to be aware that something was happening, stirred by the sudden arrival of new Autobots. The NEST commander ignored the baffled and curious looks, walking as if he was still on his own base.

They did not have to travel far. They came to another broad section of the building, where they were greeted by several tall figures. Team Prime looked as solemn as humans attending a funeral, standing around a particular individual.

The mech was significantly shorter than Ultra Magnus, but was not as small as Bumblebee. The plating was a bright red, mixed with black and silver details. He was thinner than most Autobots, telling he was not built to see the frontlines. However, his unassuming frame was contrasted by the massive barrel hoisted on his shoulder.

When Lennox first met him, the human was fooled by the illusion that it was a mighty cannon. He never considered it was actually a monocular. Then again, Perceptor was anything but conventional.

"A human juvenile with dark energon circulating through his cardiovascular system _and_ he has been injected with one of the most acidic toxins in the known universe, " the Autobot head scientist spoke in a detached, analytical tone, even as the other Transformers shifted nervously. He didn't pay them any mind, as his sole attention on the small, pale bundle in Arcee's arms. The monocular was focused on Jack, as if scanning every detail of his body. "And here I feared this was going to be a rather dull day."

* * *

 **I finally introduce Ultra Magnus and Perceptor! I planned to include them since the very beginning. Ultra Magnus will be based on his Prime incarnation, but for me he's even harder to write than Optimus. As for Perceptor, my memory of G1 is horribly foggy, but he is a mix of his original incarnation and from Animated. So I hope I give these two characters justice, but I may not help but add a touch of my own spice.**

 **That said, this chapter was difficult for me to write, for two main reasons. First was combining the show's dialogue and my own, in a way that made it comprehensible and kept everyone in character. My second problem was transitioning between scenes in a way that didn't break the flow, and keep the urgent sense of an emergency (going from an intense fight scene to a dying Jack). I had to rewrite this chapter several times before I was finally satisfied with it.**


	25. Antivenom

**So this chapter was fun and difficult to write, trying to balance everyone's emotions and the medical terminology. So pardon all the jargon in this one, but I did try to make it simplistic as possible. Hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

"You have to save him," Arcee pleaded, her wings hiked up in distress and her voice full of sternness and… desperation?

Lennox and Epps exchanged a look. They _never_ heard the confident femme use such a broken tone.

"Hmm..." Perceptor only hummed, devoid of concern. "This is a curious case. Such a study could broaden our understanding of the relationship between Cybertronians and humans—"

"This isn't another one of your projects, Perceptor," Ratchet interjected as he neared the group, before he asked in a tone of a medic, "What's his condition?"

"Significant swelling in his left cervical region, ragged and shallow breathing, and his core temperature appears to have reached 104.5 Fahrenheit …among other things."

"How much time has passed since he was injected?"

"Twenty-two minutes," Arcee answered.

"Two point sixty-five breems, then," Perceptor translated. "Odd… Most Cybertronians perish within one and a half."

It seemed like a sheet of ice fell over the room then, every individual freezing in their spot. The Autobots' optics paled and the humans exchanged wide-eyed looks. Lennox had spent _years_ fighting Transformers, and he had learned quickly that they were _very_ hard to kill. But there was a venom that could kill the giants within _minutes_?

"Then we don't have much time," Ratchet announced gravely, panic sneaking into his voice. "Put him on a gurney. Get the humans in here, _stat_. We need all the assistance we can have." Lennox started slightly as the Autobot barked his name and demanded, "Do you know medical procedures?"

"Some, yes."

He led his men behind enemy lines. He needed to know basic first aid, if he was going to bring them back home.

"Good. I need a blood sample."

"Erm, can you just give Jack the antidote, like we did with Arcee?" Bulkhead spoke up hesitantly, the poor Wrecker sounding like he was an outsider.

"No."

Bumblebee gave a whine of protest.

"I can't give him the antivenom because it was designed for _Cybertronians_ ," Ratchet explained. "As human biology vastly differs from ours, Jack's body could reject it. I need to test how his cells will react before I administer it."

It was then a pair of workers materialized, holding a makeshift gurney between them. It wasn't the bulky, stable ones from a hospital, but rather a plastic frame that they likely stored as a spare. No one complained. With impossible gentleness, Arcee laid Jack across it, cooing gently when the boy squirmed.

"The medical staff is on their way," one of the men reported, handing Lennox a first aid kit. "They should be here in a couple minutes."

"Thank you," the man nodded. "Go, we'll take it from here."

Although it was a clear dismissal, the pair lingered, eying Jack with a mixture of pity and horror. It wasn't until their skin was as pale as the teenager's when they finally retreated. Lennox took their place, Epps settling beside him. Only for the sergeant to gag.

"Oh, _man_ ," he gasped. "What the _fuck_?"

Lennox's own stomach churned at the sight before him. The side of Jack's neck had ballooned up three times its size in a massive, revolting cyst. The skin was covered in pus and blood, discolored in the first steps of rot. The vile scent of sickness assaulted Lennox and he had to stop himself from purging. Obviously Jack's body was desperately trying to fight the invading infection, and was losing.

Simmons was the most squeamish of the group, standing several paces away with his hand covering his mouth and nose. Even a few of the Autobots had inched away. Only Arcee and Ratchet dared to hover of the broken boy, with Optimus and Perceptor watching warily.

Lennox sighed, steeling his nerves. He had never drawn blood before, but he had injected medicine into a patient. It couldn't be too different, right? He placed the needle on Jack's skin, ready to puncture the vein right beneath the surface. Only to be interrupted by an animalistic growl.

The unexpected sound made Lennox flinch, looking up to see Jack's eyes were still closed, but his teeth were bared. The teenager let out another seethe, his body suddenly twisting at an odd angle.

"Jack?" Arcee gasped, rushing forward. "What's—"

Her question was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream. Audio fins tilted back and hands fell onto ears as Jack let out a high-pitched, inhuman screech. Arms struck out and legs kicked at the air. His head snapped side to side and his back arched off the gurney.

"Hold him down!" Lennox yelled.

Both he and Epps lurched forward, each taking an arm in hand and pinning it down. The action only seemed make Jack scream louder and the bulky soldiers had to lean their combined weight to keep him still. Lennox could only hope they wouldn't accidently break a bone. But he couldn't take the sample, not with Jack thrashing against him. The needle would slice the vein and only cause more damage.

Instead of the teenaged boy, Lennox saw a young face flash before his eyes, distorted by agony and burns. After being in an explosion, Torres had died in a matter of hours from energon poisoning. Lennox was not going to let Jack suffer the same fate.

"What in the world is going on?!"

"Doc, need a hand over here!"

Lennox spared a glance to see a white-coated man walk in, trailed by two nurses. They likely weren't expecting the chaos, each staring at the scene in baffled shock. However, the doctor quickly hid his expression with a professional mask. He must have interacted with the Autobots before, or he trained his focus only on his patient, because he rushed over with no hesitation.

Arcee could only hover over the humans, armor fluffed out in distress. "Primus, please, no!"

"What's wrong with him?" Epps demanded through clenched teeth.

"It must be the venom," Ratchet hypothesized in horror.

"He's in pain!" cried Arcee. "It's hurting him!"

At her diagnosis, the doctor handed a vial to a nurse. As he aided the soldiers' plight, he ordered the woman what amount to take, though Lennox only listened with half an ear.

"Keep him still," the doctor ordered when the nurse handed him back a filled syringe.

Jack seemed to wail in protest, and the other nurse hushed him in a vain attempt to comfort him. The three men managed to hold the teen's arm in place long enough for the doctor to inject the syringe's contents into his veins. Lennox counted the seconds as Jack's screams quieted and his flails lessened, until he stilled altogether with a moan. They still waited several more seconds until they slowly and cautiously released him.

"That should numb the pain for a little while," the doctor informed. "I hope…"

"Excellent," Perceptor piped, as if the entire attack had not occurred. "Now, my sample?"

Arcee sent the scientist a heated glare, but he seemed oblivious. Lennox only did what he was told, carefully plunging the needle underneath Jack's skin. The boy didn't offer a sound or a twitch, locked in his own body.

"Got it," he announced, pulling away with the filled syringe.

"Give it here," Perceptor ordered, wasting no time.

The human held up it to the Transformer, only to blink as the scientist shifted. His body folded down and bent at unnatural angles. Rather than a vehicle, Lennox as expected, Perceptor transformed into a… microscope?

The human didn't know such a bizarre shape was an option. He assumed all Transformers took the form of a vehicle, to allow increased mobility. But as Lennox noticed a pair of treads underneath the microscope's base, he wondered if Perceptor _did_ have a vehicle mode, but he preferred—

"I'm _waiting_ ," the scientist's voice called out impatiently, shattering Lennox's thoughts and making him start.

A talking microscope. That was a new one.

But deciding not to provoke the mech further, Lennox stepped forward, placing the syringe on the contraption's stage. He moved back as the monocular came to life, tilting over the sample with its lenses spiraling like a camera's.

Perceptor let out a series of thoughtful hums, each one hitting a different octave, offering no insight to the scientist's thought process. Autobots and humans could only watch, drowning in tension.

"Well?" Epps pressed after several long minutes.

"Fascinating, absolutely fascinating," Perceptor only muttered, as if he didn't hear.

"You know the anticipation is killing me," piped Simmons.

"I never seen such a thing in my entire existence. The Insecticon's venom is causing massive deterioration, as I expected. However, there appears to be a presence of dark energon, infused with the human's blood. But rather than the same negative effects caused by pure energon, it is increasing the cells' regeneration at an accelerated rate."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Simmons interjected, waving his hands through the air in a halting motion. "For those that don't speak science, what does that mean?"

Lennox glanced up at the towering giants, only for his stomach to churn as he saw each one wearing a look of horror. It was Ratchet that answered, but each word sounded forced.

"The venom is destroying Jack's cells, but the dark energon is restoring them as quickly as they are damaged. The substances are negating the other's effects, but instead of canceling each other out, they are creating a cycle of degeneration and regeneration."

Lennox turned cold. A solid block of ice formed in his chest, its frigidness spreading across his body until his skin grew pale and he _trembled_. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as EM fields flared with distress. The humans stood rooted to their spot, their widened gazes falling onto Jack.

The boy was unmoving, even as his eyes were furrowed and his jaw was clenched. Lennox could not imagine how much agony he must have been in. Being burned alive from the inside out, healed, only to through the whole process over and over again. Airachnid's poison was killing him, but Megatron's dark energon was not letting him die.

Lennox swallowed thickly and his tone hardened, "What do we need to do?"

"I wouldn't recommend a prescription," Perceptor said as he transformed back into his bipedal mode. "Although there are trace amounts of iron—though intriguing to find a metal within a human—it appears the specimen's blood is primarily made up of carbon."

Ratchet gave a long sigh. "As I feared."

Lennox only cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Well, we are _organic_. Isn't that expected?"

"It is. However, Cybertronian nanites are designed to eliminate any foreign substances that invade the protoform. And since carbon is not an element found within our bodies, it is likely that Jack's cells will be… well, eliminated."

"We don't want that now, don't we?" Simmons muttered.

Lennox ignored him, echoing, "Nanites? What are those?"

Ratchet hummed, looking for a translation. "Hmm… similar to your 'antibodies,' I suppose."

"So… your 'antidote' is just a Cybertronian antibody?"

Perceptor and Ratchet glanced at each other, but when neither could offer a better explanation, they turned back to the NEST commander and nodded.

"Maybe so, but it's not going to do us any good," Epps drawled in disappointment, folding his arms over his chest.

"Actually it does," Lennox refuted. "Antivenom on Earth is made from the same thing." He turned to the sergeant, reminding him, "Remember that time in Afghanistan? When I was bitten by that snake?"

Epps cringed at the painful memory. "Yeah… I had to carry your ass all the way back to base."

The Rangers had been pushing their way through the dense, dry brush of the mountains. Lennox was so focused on looking ahead for ambushes and up above for snipers, he never thought about looking _down_. Until there was a sharp prick and scorching-hot pain rushed up his leg.

Lennox had become paralyzed by the agony. So Epps took the Ranger captain, combat gear and all, and draped Lennox over his shoulders. The sergeant threw protocol into the wind and practically _sprinted_ back to base.

Thankfully the medical wing had a stock of antivenom for every snake native to the area. The doctor told if Lennox had arrived any later, he would be dead. While the Ranger was recovering, he learned the painstaking process of how they were recovered.

"We can dilute the venom and inject it to another subject," the lieutenant colonel suggested, even though he knew he must have sounded like a madman to his audience. "Their immune system should respond by producing antibodies, which we can extract and use to treat Jack."

Lennox hoped he made it sound straightforward enough for the alien scientists to understand. He was relieved when Ratchet made a thoughtful hum.

"Well, in _theory_ it should work," the medic mused.

Bulkhead, on the other hand, looked horrified. "You're going to put that stuff in _another_ human?!"

"Not it," Simmons called out.

Lennox rolled his eyes. "It doesn't have to be a human. The antibodies can be transferred between species, because they will only target the venom, not the host's cells."

"And where are we supposed to get a bunch of mice?" Epps huffed.

Perceptor frowned. "I don't think there a dilution small enough for such an insignificant creature."

"What about a horse?" Lennox offered. When he received baffled gazes, he explained, "They are naturally hyperimmune to toxins, so they are commonly used as hosts to produce antivenom."

"So I guess you just have one hanging around?" Epps questioned skeptically.

"I might," Simmons interjected. "I know someone that owes me a few favors."

"Still one hell of a risk."

"It will be a risk we will have to take," Optimus rumbled, stepping closer to the debate. "I will not prolong Jack's suffering any more than he has already endured."

As if to reaffirm his words, there was a low, strangled moan. Jack shifted like he was having a restless dream, but Lennox knew it was so much worse. He swallowed thickly.

"Let's do it," he decided lowly, looking over to Simmons.

The agent nodded solemnly, "I'll make some calls."

* * *

Lennox _hated_ waiting. He was a field commander. It was his responsibility to lead his men into battle, to make decisions, to take action. Any time he was told to wait back, to sit on the sidelines, to _wait—_ he felt helpless. It had already been twenty-four hours.

Jack had been moved to a proper hospital bed, tucked in the corner of the medbay. He had been placed on an IV, which steadily dripped fluids, sedatives, and pain killers into his veins. Lennox suspected the drugs could only muffle the agony rather than neutralize it, but it was the best they could offer. Jack had woken up a couple of times, but he was too incoherent to carry a conversation. He only gave a few unintelligible slurs before he slipped back into unconscious.

Simmons had left with a team of doctors and scientists, groundbridging to wherever they decided to conduct their experiment. To Lennox's surprise, Perceptor joined them. Instead of taking the form of a several-foot-tall microscope, the Autobot scientist transformed into a bulky, yet compact SUV. It looked similar to a Jeep, but smaller than Breakdown.

Perceptor explained he wanted to partake in the study, sounding excited as if it was a science project. Lennox didn't share the same sentiment. Not when two horses had already died.

Simmons told the first one had perished within minutes. Perceptor had then diluted venom again, so there was a flicker of hope when the second stallion lasted for several hours. Only for it to be dashed when the horse fell to its side. It stopped breathing a few moments after. Lennox just hoped the end was quick for the poor creatures.

The poison was diluted even further, and Simmons reported they would try for a third time. All Lennox could do was wait for the results. He anxiously paced back and forth on the second story of the hangar, restlessly swinging his arms back and forth. Meanwhile Arcee was frantic.

The two-wheeler circled Jack like an anxious dog, armor bristling and wings fluttering. Blades engaged and disengaged at random intervals in what Lennox guessed was a nervous tick. Occasionally Arcee made a noise, which either sounded like a feral cat or like scraping metal. Finally, Autobot couldn't bottle up her emotions anymore and vented her frustrations.

"I can't _stand_ this," she spat at no one in particular. "Just sitting here, doing _nothing_!"

"We must to have faith in our allies," Optimus assured wisely. "Perceptor has never failed before."

"But what if something goes wrong?" Arcee demanded, whirling around and stopping in front of her leader.

With their size difference, it almost looked like a child challenging a parent, but Lennox wasn't fooled by the illusion. They were both deadly warriors, and he had witnessed during the last few weeks how quickly they turned their wrath on the closest the target.

"And what about the Decepticons?"

"As Megatron was forced into a retreat, I highly doubt he will resurface any time soon," Optimus mused.

"Then he's _vulnerable_. We should take him down now!"

While Lennox frowned at Arcee's uncharacteristically heated words, there was a rumble of approval from the side of the hangar.

"That's what I've been _saying_ ," Wheeljack drawled, straightening from where he was slouched against the wall.

"We are in no position to lead a frontal assault against the Decepticons," Ultra Magnus quickly spoke, firmly dismissing the idea.

Wheeljack grumbled and glared, while Arcee argued, "We have more Autobots in our ranks than we ever have before. If we are not ready now, then _when_?"

"Megatron has _hundreds_ of soldiers at his command," Optimus Prime explained, like he was telling a child why the sky was blue. "And the might of an entire warship, powered by a limitless supply of energon. We are only a few, fueled by rations."

"We won against impossible odds before."

Lennox cringed as Arcee's tone darkened. The leader of the Autobots was renowned for his patience, but even the human knew he had his limits. Optimus could only be blatantly challenged for so long. The Prime's optics were already narrowed, his cool optics gleaming like ice.

However, he remained silent as Arcee went on, gesturing to her ill charge, "Jack wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Megatron! We can't let him get away with this!"

Instead of Optimus Prime's retort, another cold voice spoke.

"Jack would not be injured if _you_ had considered the consequences of your actions," Ultra Magnus scolded.

Lennox never seen a Transformer so flabbergasted, Arcee looking like she had been slapped in the face. It would havde been funny, if the commander wasn't holding his breath as he watched the stand-off.

"Consequences?!"

"You disobeyed a direct order _and_ you broke protocol," Magnus told firmly. "You were to remain posted at the base and failed you to inform your superior of your contact with Airachnid. Yet you proceeded, fully aware it was an ambush."

Arcee opened her mouth as if to argue, but was interrupted when Optimus spoke next, finishing his lieutenant's lecture.

"Arcee, you know better than to engage the enemy alone," the Autobot leader chided. "Not only did you jeopardize your own safety, but you placed Jack in critical danger. If the rest of the team was present, we could have minimized the damage."

"If I brought the team, Airachnid would have _killed_ him!" Arcee wailed.

"And you found _this_ to be a better solution?" Magnus snapped.

The femme flinched from that, violently. Optimus gave the large mech a disapproving look and Wheeljack offered no retort. Even Lennox felt the sting of the words. They did not need to look at Jack's unmoving body to know what "this" meant.

The air was heavy with silence, until finally the Prime broke it, continuing in a much calmer tone. "Understand this planet is our home now. If we are to achieve peace, we must learn to live beside the humans. That means we must defend them no matter the cost, _especially_ are young charges."

Arcee did not initially reply, her helm bowed and her wings draped against her back. The submissive pose was a sharp contrast to her restless, fiery state a moment ago. Lennox wondered if the gravity of her superior's words was reaching to her, or she simply knew better than to continuously agitate them.

She was quiet for several long moments until she finally corrected in a murmur, "Jack is my partner." The femme raised her helm to meet the Prime's gaze, her optics blazing. "I swore to protect _him_. That I wouldn't let what happened to Tailgate and Cliffjumper happen to him. Not because _you_ ordered me to, that because we are _family_."

Arcee looked to Jack then, only for her icy glare to melt at the sight of him. There was a fine tremble to her wings now. Her voice quieted even more, barely audible.

"When… when I saw him on the ground like that… After what Airachinid did to him…" Arcee balled her servos. Her icy optics glared at the wall, as if her mortal enemy was standing there. The femme's growl was like a lioness's. "She deserved _worse._ All I thought was about tearing her apart, to make her suffer…"

Arcee stopped herself, as if she just realized she was speaking her darkest thoughts to her noble leader. She bowed her helm, waiting for another lecture.

Instead of a disapproving tone, Optimus rumbled, "And because of that, you are stronger for the choice you made."

Arcee seemed no more assured by the praise, her fists trembling by her sides. Lennox could only watch the scene with a frown, feeling like an intruder more than anything. He thought about leaving, to let the Autobots continue their vigil with privacy, only to be stopped by a musical ring from his phone. A couple helms turned in his direction as the man answered it..

"I hope you are calling with good news, Simmons," Lennox sighed, bracing himself.

He wasn't expecting to hear a burst of loud, almost maniacal laughter.

"Then I guess it's your lucky day!" Simmons cackled. "Colonel Lennox, you are a rank A _genius_!"

"What are you talking about?"

Lennox was only confused as Simmons went into hysterics again, before letting out, "Damned horse is still kicking! The son of a bitch made it!"

"Wait, you mean the host? It's alive?!" Helms tilted in interest as the ex-agent gave an affirmative. Still the NEST commander questioned, "Are you sure?"

They had their hopes dashed before.

"We waited a full twelve hours. And the horse is bouncing like it's getting ready to go to the races. Isn't that right, buddy?"

There was unintelligible muttering from the phone, probably Simmons trying to sweet-talk the said animal. It was interrupted by an audible _chomp_ and the man let out a startled yelp. Meanwhile Lennox turned to the Autobots, four intense gazes boring into him. His lips spread into a smile, but it wasn't at Simmons's plight.

"It worked."

* * *

All Jack registered was pain.

No, it was white-hot _agony_ , coursing through his veins like wildfire. It _burned_ , eating away at his flesh from the inside out. It was so _hot_. And everything was so heavy. His body wouldn't move. _He couldn't move_ **.**

Jack wanted to scream, tried to scream, but there would be no sound. He couldn't yell, he couldn't _speak_! He couldn't _see_! The boy saw nothing but darkness. It would swarm around him, pressing against him. Restraining, confining, _suffocating_. It threatened to drag him down into an endless abyss, never letting him go.

The only thing Jack had that was grounding him to reality was the phantom touches across his body. A pat, a caress, a squeeze. Nothing painful, or it was simply swallowed up by the agony consuming him. But then there was sharp, quick pricks. Usually along his arms, and there was always something cold and metallic along with it.

Was it MECH? Did they still have him? No, no, it couldn't be! Not again! Oh, what did they _want_? Jack couldn't take it anymore! _No more_!

He tried to beg Silas to stop, but only a broken groan would escape his throat. Why couldn't he _talk_? Why couldn't they leave him _alone_? Make it _stop_!

But it wouldn't stop. The fire kept burning within him and his captors kept torturing him. There was another stab of pain and Jack wanted to cry out. He wanted to _escape_. So he ran down the dark corridors around him, not caring if the darkness swallowed him up. He receded into the back of his mind. The teen wrapped the darkness around himself like a blanket, hiding in it and muffling the horrible world beyond.

Jack stayed like that for some time. Occasionally the darkness would tighten around him, but not cruelly, or it would send him a wave of gentle assurance.

Then the darkness shifted. He couldn't stay. He had to go.

No, Jack refused.

He couldn't be comatose forever. He had to wake up.

Comatose? He wasn't awake? Jack felt something push against him. The protective cocoon began to peel away. The boy panicked. No! No! He couldn't go back! He didn't want go back!

It was alright.

No, it wasn't.

The Autobots would take care of him.

The Autobots? They _left_ him! Jack pouted.

If he played along for now, they could be together again.

 _Megatron…_

Rather than being overbearing and arrogant, the warlord was tired. His frame was aching with pain of his own.

 ** _Awaken._**

Jack opened his eyes.

Glaring, brilliant white greeted him. The military brat immediately sealed his eyes shut and turned away with a painful hiss. He instinctively shifted, trying to move his limbs. But they were heavy and unmovable. Fear clawed at Jack's chest.

What was going on? He opened his eyes in a squint, trying to see his surroundings. The blanket of blackness was gone, but Jack felt another cocoon around him, soft and warm. He realized he was in a bed, but where? This wasn't Megatron's berth.

Jack heard a sound, but it was horribly muted. He stiffly turned his head, just as a shadow fell over him. Tall, broad. Megatron, maybe?

No, it couldn't be. There was no crimson gaze, no sharp curves, no rigid armor. The shape was soft and asymmetrical— _organic_. Jack tried to look for a face. He was greeted with cold brown eyes, staring at him with a rigid and stern expression. Then he saw a cold, menacing pistol, strapped to the man's belt.

 _MECH_.

" _No!"_ Jack screamed.

His fist shot out on its own accord, colliding with the soldier's skull. The man yowled and stumbled back. Jack didn't hesitate. Gritting his teeth, he shifted his weight onto his elbows, but the movement was horribly slow. It took all his strength just to sit up. What had MECH done to him?

More noise, loud and panicked. Hands grabbed him, pushing him back down. Jack fought back. He flailed against them, spitting curses.

 _"Stay away from me!"_

A couple released their grip, obeying, and the military brat rewarded those that didn't with a punch. He had to get out of here!

Jack was trying to will his legs to move, when suddenly the bed trembled. Another shadow, larger than the others. The boy had to crane his neck back to see a gigantic, bulky frame. But instead of red optics, curious blue looked down upon him.

 _"Please, calm down, dear one,"_ the mech spoke.

Jack didn't recognize him. His plating was a bright red, similar to Knock Out's, but he was _different_. The boy's heart jumped into his throat once he looked up the barrel of the cannon on the stranger's shoulder. Jack wanted to demand who he was, but instead he only had one question he cared about.

 _"Megatron! Where's Megatron?!"_

The mech blinked at that, but his surprise vanished as quickly as it appeared. _"He likely returned to the_ Nemesis _. Optimus told he was quite injured."_

Injured?! Was that why Jack was in pain? Was it Megatron's?

 _"Is… is he okay?"_

 _"Knock Out is a competent medic. I am certain he will make a full recovery."_

Jack sighed in relief. Megatron was alright. Yet the strange mech looked no more assured.

 _"Do you mind speaking in English, dear one?"_ he requested, glancing at something by Jack's side. _"It seems you are frightening our friends here."_

Jack only squinted in confusion and followed the mech's gaze. He flinched at the sight of the MECH soldier and almost let out a scream. Thankfully just then, reason returned to his mind, and the boy recognized the man. Colonel Lennox, along with Epps and Simmons.

But something was wrong. Their skin was pale and their eyes were wide. Lennox stared, Epps was frozen like a statue, and Simmons's jaw was dropped. Jack tried to ask what is was, only to become aware of an unnatural clicking noise escaping his mouth.

Oh. He was speaking Cybertronian. No wonder all three men looked as if he had grown a second head.

Jack cleared his throat and tried again. It took several attempts until he croaked, "Um… hi."

Simmons turned paler and Epps flinched. The teenager was afraid he was still speaking the alien language, until finally Lennox blinked away his shock.

"Hey, there, Jack," the NEST commander greeted softly with a gentle smile, taking slow, unthreatening steps towards him. "How are you feeling?"

"…Everything hurts."

The burning agony had lessened, but now there was a steady ache down to Jack's bones, pulsing along his body. It felt like someone was pounding a hammer against his skull. Lennox didn't seem very surprised at his words.

"Ratchet said you were going to be in a lot of pain, but you should feel better soon," the man assured, settling an arm's length away from Jack. Whether Lennox was keeping his distance in order not to scare the boy further or so that he couldn't hit him again, Jack wasn't sure.

"Ratchet…?"

While Jack was only confused, Lennox nodded reassuringly. "It's okay, Jack. You're with the Autobots now."

What? Eyes widening in surprise, the teenager frantically looked around. He realized he was pushed in the corner of a massive warehouse, but it was one he didn't recognize. Disorientated was the least of what Jack felt.

"H-How did I get here?"

He flinched as he heard the sound of his own voice for the first time. It was like nails scraping against each other, horribly raspy and quiet. No one commented, as Lennox replied with a question of his own.

"What do you remember?"

The boy swallowed thickly, as he tried to recall where he was before. He was with Megatron, on the _Nemesis_ … Then something happened…

Airachnid. Airachnid happened. She attacked him. Took him away. Then…

"Airachnid kidnapped me," Jack answered. He squinted, trying to remember what else, but nothing would come up. He gave up with a shake of his head. "I don't remember what happened after that."

Lennox frowned. There was a long pause before the commander explained quietly, "Airachnid used you as bait. Arcee found you… the same time Megatron did." Jack's eyes widened at that, giving the man an astonished look as he went on, "When Airachnid realized she was cornered, she got scared. She… she injected you with venom, hoping it would kill you."

At Lennox's words, images flashed across Jack's vision. He recalled strong servos pushing him down, a sultry voice mocking him. Then something pierced his neck, and agony consumed him. Returning back to reality with a gasp, Jack slapped his collarbone with his hand. Bile rose to his throat when he felt rough bandages underneath his fingertips.

"But… if Airachnid tried to kill me, then… how…"

The teenager couldn't find the words to finish that sentence, but it was obvious what he was asking.

"We were able to make an antivenom. It should neutralize Airachnid's toxins from your body, which should let the… the dark energon… er, heal you."

Lennox ended his explanation awkwardly, and Jack did not blame him. His heart clenched at the realization the Autobots had discovered he still had the Blood of Unicron running through him. At the thought, Jack looked around, but found no towering figures. There was only the strange red mech that had watched the entire exchange in silence. The teen decided he didn't like how the Autobot stared at him, with analytical, fascinated gaze like he was a science experiment.

"So who are you supposed to be?" Jack asked.

"Perceptor," the stranger introduced. "I am Optimus's lead scientist."

Scientist? Since when did—

Jack remembered.

The research team, that everyone failed to introduce. The army brat eyed his surroundings, half-expecting another stranger to appear.

"Don't worry, the others are close by. We just didn't want everyone crowding around you when you woke up," Lennox explained. Then noticing the boy's anxious look, he assured, "You're safe now."

Safe? Jack didn't _feel_ safe. He didn't know where he was, how he got here. He didn't know who this mech was, and didn't know how many more there were. And…

 _"Airachnid used you as bait."_

So the Insecticon was never after him to begin with. She _used_ him, just to get to Arcee. Just like…

 _"…So he used you instead."_

Like Megatron.

Suddenly Airachnid's vile words echoed in his mind. Of Megatron's true scheme and that Jack was nothing more than his tool. The teenager swallowed the bile in his throat. That's all he was, then. A pawn to be played between giants.

The boy shifted and everyone practically jumped forwards.

"Jack—" Lennox started, but the army brat cut him off.

"I want to get up."

The NEST commander still looked reluctant, but didn't protest as Jack squirmed in the hospital bed. He willed himself to get up, trying to pull his body from the mattress. He tried to brace himself on his arms, his legs. Then he froze in realization.

Lennox saw, stepping forward in concern. "Jack, what's wrong?"

Frigid claws of fear dug into the boy's skin and he shuddered. It took him several long moments to speak.

"I… I can't move."


	26. Scars

**I actually had a hard time with this update. I started this chapter with a burst of inspiration, only to be slammed with schoolwork and finals for three weeks. Yet when I was finally able to come back, it took me two more weeks to find my motivation. So, I couldn't find myself satisfied with this chapter, but I wanted to give you guys one more update for the year.**

 **We are one step closer to the climax of this fanfic. I swear I will make it my New Year's resolution to end this story.**

 **Also I made a slight change to Chapter 7. It does not affect the plot whatsoever, but I only edited to keep continuity.**

* * *

Lennox paced back and forth in the medical wing, as restless as a lion in the cage. Epps stood beside him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his lips pulled in a frown. It had been several hours since Jack had been handed off to the medical staff. They wasted no time running tests, but Lennox had heard it hadn't gone well. Supposedly Jack had fought every step of the way. A couple times he had even lashed out with his fists. At one point they had to sedate him just to get an MRI scan.

Finally Lennox paused when he saw the base's head physician, Gonzalez, walking towards them. He looked exhausted. The lieutenant colonel stepped forward, meeting him halfway.

"What's his condition, doc?"

"Where do I even start?" Gonzalez groaned, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Well, in good news, it seems the antivenom is taking effect. The swelling has gone down. Jack's breathing and heart rate have stabilized. Although still feverish, his body temperature has decreased…"

The doctor trailed off, looking reluctant. It was Epps that brought up the unspoken word that hung in the air.

"But…?"

Gonzalez's frown deepened. "I'm afraid the damage has already been done."

Lennox's heart clenched at the solemn statement. His arms were folded across his chest and his grip tightened on his own arm. He remembered Jack's look of horror, when the boy couldn't lift himself off the bed. Lennox had seen that look before.

"Neurological?" the lieutenant colonel asked cautiously. There were venomous animals on Earth capable of paralyzing a fully grown human. Did the toxin from an Insecticon have the same effect?

"Actually, no." While Lennox raised a brow in confusion, Gonzalez explained, "He has feeling in his extremities and he says there's no tingling sensation, which tells us there's no damage to his nervous system. However, he appears to have difficulty actually _moving_. We believe it's likely mass denaturation of protein throughout his body, either caused by prolonged high fever or—" The doctor paused, struggling to find an accurate term, obviously still trying to process the situation. "—the, um… _venom_."

"Denaturation," Lennox repeated lowly. "You mean…?"

"Jack's muscles have been deteriorated. He has lost 13% of his body weight. He's malnourished and dehydrated. We put him on an IV for now and we'll take it from there."

"Oh, my god," Epps gasped, his eyes widening.

Gonzalez swallowed thickly. "That's not the only thing."

When the NEST soldiers merely stared, the doctor explained cautiously, "We found scar tissue all along the patient's body. There are lacerations along his wrists and across his torso. X-rays revealed that Jack has several fractures that have healed improperly."

Both men gaped. A block of ice formed in Lennox's chest while Epps seethed in rage.

"Damned bastard," he hissed. "Megatron _tortured_ him."

"I… I don't think so. I was a corpsman during the Gulf War. These wounds... they seem more consistent with prisoner of wars."

" _MECH_ ," Lennox growled. He clenched his hands into fists, nailing biting his skin. "Goddamn you, Silas."

How could the man be so _low_? To torture a _child_? For what? Information? What could Jack possibly tell him? The broken image of the boy morphed into Lennox's precious daughter, Annabeth, at the hands of that madman. Hot fury bubbled up in the father's chest, but he stamped it down just as quickly. No, he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him. He had to stay in control.

Lennox swallowed thickly and sighed through his nose. He forced his voice to sound even as he asked, "Will he recover?"

"Yes, but it will take a long time. He's going to need extensive therapy and recuperation, to increase his muscle mass and recover his motor skills. But quite honestly... I'm more concerned about his mental state."

"I want to see him."

"Well, you say you know him. Perhaps a familiar face will calm him down."

With those solemn words, Gonzalez turned on his heel, leaving Epps and Lennox to exchange uncertain glanced.. They followed the doctor through the winding corridors of the medical wing. It was quieter than Lennox was used to. The hospital at Diego Garcia was always filled with soldiers, usually injured from a training accident or from battle. But the NEST forces posted at Cape Canaveral saw no action, so there was no moans of pain or frantic shouts. At least, until Gonzalez led them through a door.

"Just leave me alone!"

There was a startled cry and a horrible _crash_. Lennox flinched back, just in time to spare his boots from being splattered by projectile soup. The chunky liquid formed a pool underneath the metal tray, knocked out of the nurse's hands. Jack seethed from the hospital bed, but his glare seemed to be focused on the discarded meal than his wide-eyed audience. Only Gonzalez dared to step forward.

"Jack, what's wrong?" he spoke calmly and lowly, like he was talking to a terrified animal.

The teenager didn't seem to appreciate the tone, bristling at the sight of the doctor and _hissing,_ "Stay away from me!"

"I just want to help—"

"I don't want your help! I want to go home!"

Lennox didn't know how to process the sight before him. This was nothing like the calm, self-assured boy like he knew. Jack's look was feral and his muscles were visibly tense, braced to fight or flight.

Yet he looked so _small_. The teen's clothes had been replaced with simple green hospital gown which hung loosely from his body. Jack's cheeks were sunken in and there were dark bags under his eyes. His skin was frighteningly pale and his raven-black hair was dull and greasy.

 _Dear God… what did they do to him?_

Jack glared at Gonzalez, like the doctor was holding a knife to his throat. Lennox thought quickly. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Thank you, doctor, we have it from here," he assured.

Gonzalez merely looked at the NEST commander confused, until he blinked with realization. He gave a cut nod and turned to make his leave.

Jack visibly relaxed once the physician was out of sight, his muscles slowly uncoiling. But still tight. Lennox ushered the bewildered nurse out of the room as well and Epps reluctantly followed her. Trying to appear as least frightening as possible, the lieutenant colonel wrapped his fatigue jacket over his pistol and turned slightly so it was out of Jack's sight.

The teen didn't look so violent anymore, at least. Lennox waited until the door clicked closed before he moved forward. He kept his stride slow and controlled as he walked to the chair next to the bed. He dragged it closer to Jack, but made sure to stay out of the boy' personal space.

Lennox swallowed thickly and asked softly, "Are you—"

The man stopped himself. No, Jack wasn't okay. The boy was avoiding looking at him in the eye, instead looking at an interesting spot at the wall. His bony hands wrung together, the only movement he was really capable of.

"Why won't you let me go home?" Jack demanded, as if Lennox had any real choice in the matter.

"You're really weak right now, Jack. You need time to recover."

"Right. Because of _Airachnid."_

Lennox didn't know it was possible to fill a single name with so much hate. The awkward silence stretched between them, until NEST commander found something else to say.

"Arcee is really worried about you."

It was the truth. The femme had refused to leave her charge's side, that was until Ultra Magnus had ordered her to go to the training grounds. Lennox assumed it was only to keep her distracted. Yet when the Autobot returned only to realize she had missed her partner's awakening, she had gone into a fit. Lennox thought mentioning Arcee would make Jack happy, so he was surprised when the teen only scowled.

"She doesn't care about me."

Lennox blinked at the bitter tone of his words. "Of course she does. She wants to see you—"

"I don't want to talk to her."

The former Ranger only became more confused. He didn't have the chance to see the full extent their relationship, but he always assumed Arcee and Jack were close. Yet he only responded with resentment.

 _Why?_

"How about your mother, then?" Lennox tried. "We can try to get her on the base."

The lieutenant colonel didn't like the idea of inviting a civilian to a military institution, but if it meant—

"No."

"But—"

"I said _no_!"

Lennox almost flinched at the harsh bark. Jack was trembling now, clawing at the sheets underneath his hands. The NEST commander didn't understand. The teen didn't want to see Arcee or June. That meant Miko and Raf were out of the question.

Was he scared of his own loved ones? Or, was he worried that he would scare _them_? It was obvious that Jack was traumatized.

 _I need to gain his trust, but how?_

Lennox sighed and looked away in thought. The tray of food Jack had knocked away lay untouched, its contents still splattered across the floor. The pool of soup had grew, spreading the mess even more. It looked like a full meal. Nothing solid, the man noticed, just enough to fill Jack's stomach.

"Why don't you try something to eat?" Lennox suggested lightly.

"I'm not hungry," Jack muttered.

 _Not hungry_? Lennox had seen teenage boys eat three full plates of food in a single sitting, and they weren't even half-starved. Yet Jack hadn't eaten in _days_.

Lennox wondered if the teenager was just lying. But confronting him about it wasn't going to do any good. The man remembered whenever he went home, he would be so excited to finally see his little Annabelle. Only when he did, the reality of fatherhood would greet him like a slap to the face. The six-year-old was rambunctious and stubborn, just like her mother. Especially when it came to meals.

Lennox sighed and chose his words carefully. He picked the tone he used to negotiate with Annabelle whenever she refused to eat her peas.

"Can you just _try_?"

"I _can't_ ," Jack seethed.

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand. Tell me what is going on." When the boy didn't reply, the man went on, "Jack, you can't survive without eating. Your body needs—"

"Dark energon."

"Pardon?"

"What I _need_ is dark energon," the boy told, his eyes haunted with misery. "I-It's the only thing that I can take. Any food, anything solid, anything _organic,_ I-I _can't_ —"

Jack trailed off with a broken whine and looked away again, thin arms wrapping around his torso. Lennox could only blink and fall back in his chair, staring at the boy before him as he tried to process the words. Did he mean— _only_ dark energon?

The NEST commander remembered Simmons had interrogated Jack months ago, after his initial capture by the Decepticons. The boy reluctantly admitted how Megatron had forced him to consume the noxious energon. During that brief stay, Lennox had watched Jack during dinners. He had stared at his meal with disinterest and each bite was agonizingly slow, as if it was painful to eat. At the time Lennox had assumed it was because of the boy's emotional distress.

Was it a side-effect of the dark energon? But how? From what he gathered from what Perceptor said before, Lennox understood the substance affected Jack's body on a molecular level. Did it somehow alter his physiology? Just the idea sounded absurd.

But then again, a matter of months ago, Lennox believed any contact with energon was a death sentence.

The lieutenant colonel made a decision.

"Alright, then," Lennox murmured.

Without another word, he rose to his feet and left the room.

* * *

Lennox waited until he gathered all the Autobots in the main hanger before he told his idea. Only when he finished explaining his plan, his audience erupted in protest.

"Are you _insane_?" Arcee exclaimed.

"You want to give Jack _more_ dark energon?!" Epps gasped.

"Sounds like a bad idea if you ask me," Simmons drawled in a flat tone.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do," Lennox retorted, feeling several enraged glares boring into him. He turned to Perceptor, who seemed like the only one not bothered. "Didn't you say the dark energon heals him?"

"Indeed," the Autobot scientist confirmed. "The substance is capable of—"

Lennox cut him off before he could start another scientific rant, turning back to explain, "If the dark energon can undo the effects of a deteriorative acid, then maybe it can keep Jack alive."

"We should getting that stuff _out_ of him," Epps argued. "Not jacking him up with it!"

"We _did_ , remember? We flushed all of it from his systems, but we just learned he's just got more of it."

"Because of _Megatron_ ," Arcee growled.

"After he tore apart MECH's base to get to Jack. Why?"

"Probably to finish his little science experiment," Epps huffed.

"Maybe." It was a possibly Lennox couldn't rule out. But then— "What if when Megatron captured Jack, he gave him dark energon. To _treat_ him."

Ratchet made a scoff, which sounded like a car backfiring. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "That would suggest that Megatron actually _cared_ for Jack's wellbeing."

"It's a _theory_ ," Lennox defended.

"A stupid one," Simmons grumbled, rolling his eyes.

The NEST commander glared at the man over his shoulder, but decided he wasn't worth the time. "That's not the point here. The point is that Jack needs are help."

"And how are we going to get more of the dark stuff?" Epps questioned. "Because I don't think Simmons is going to be able to pull that one out of his pocket."

As if on que, the former Sector Seven agent pulled the pockets of his suit inside out, just to prove they were empty.

"I got _nada_ ," he reported with a shrug. "I guess we'll have to order some from Megatron."

"Fortunately that won't be necessary," Perceptor announced, stepping forward to stand over the humans. "I have amassed an adequate stockpile of dark energon."

While Lennox suspected at much, Epps and Simmons stared up at the metal giant as if he had grown a second helm.

"So wait, you just have it lying around?" gasped Epps.

"Well, that's awfully convenient," spat Simmons. "Where did this come from?"

"We kept a storage upon the _Ark_ ," Perceptor explained casually. "For research, of course. As well as to keep it out of Decpeticon possession."

"What's the _Ark_?" Epps asked, squinting in confusion.

Optimus Prime answered that one. "The _Ark_ was the flagship of the Autobot fleet that fled Cybertron, during the Great Exodus. It was designed to sustain an entire army for extended period of time, as we traveled across the stars in search of a new home."

" _Another_ spaceship?" Simmons exclaimed. "And where is _that_?"

The consultant frantically looked around, even spinning in a circle, as if he was expecting to find the gargantuan spacecraft in the cramped warehouse.

"At the bottom of the ocean," Perceptor answered.

When the humans just stared, Ultra Magnus explained, "When we retreated from Cybertron, we were not aware we were being pursued. The _Nemesis_ engaged us outside of your solar system, heavily damaging our ship. Although the _Ark_ managed to remain functional enough reach your planet, we could not prevent the resulting crash." Suddenly the commander's stoic mask hardened as his optics darkened and he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid… many of us did not survive."

Lennox had heard the story before, yet the Autobots still carried that haunted look when they were reminded of their fallen brethren and how they became stranded on an alien world.

"So Megatron wrecked your ship," Simmons digested, apparently the only thing he took from the story.

"No," Ratchet corrected, shaking his helm. "Megatron had already been in stasis for a long time, after the _Harbinger_ crash-landed in the northern region of your planet, the Artic. It was likely Starscream leading the assault."

"I'm sure the cocky bastard _loved_ that," Epps muttered.

"We have been salvaging parts from the _Ark_ in order to reconstruct a new transport that we call the _Xanthium_ ," Ultra Magnus told.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Simmons asked skeptically. "It seems your ships have a lot of bad luck when it comes to Earth."

Lennox groaned at the statement, covering his face with his palm. Ratchet rolled his optics.

"I'm afraid that statement is all too true," the medic agreed bitterly. "But this project is currently our only hope to reconnect with the rest of our forces scattered across the galaxy."

"While Jack's only 'hope' is swimming with the fishies."

"Actually, no," Perceptor retorted. "We managed to recover the dark energon from the wreckage."

Simmons blinked at that. It took him a few seconds, but he shrugged off his surprise and muttered, "Shame. Here I was thinking I was going for a swim."

It was Arcee's turn to scoff, rolling her optics and placing her servo on her hip. She still didn't look convinced.

"And how are we so sure that it's dark energon that Jack really needs?"

"Well, I suppose there is only one way to test that theory," Perceptor replied.

Arcee glared at the scientist.

"You… can do it, right?" Lennox asked hesitantly.

"Why, of course. In fact, dark energon can be processed just as easily as pure energon."

"Then I guess we have it."

Still, the lieutenant colonel looked up to Optimus, silently waiting for permission. Although he acted as field commander, the human had no authority over the Autobots ranks. It was the Prime that made the final decision.

Lennox could practically hear the gears turning the Optimus's helm as he considered the options that were laid out before him. Indulge in the Blood of Unicron, which was told to bring chaos upon the universe? The very substance that Megatron had turned into a weapon? Was committing a sin worth saving a single human's life? _Jack_ 's life? Did one outweigh the other?

After a long time, Optimus Prime sighed.

"Proceed, Perceptor."

"Optimus, you can't be _serious_ ," Arcee gasped, her optics brightening even more.

"It is a choice we do not, Arcee," the Autobot leader replied, turning to face his subordinate. "If Jack's well-being is in jeopardy, then we must act now."

Arcee didn't bother to hide her disgust and disapproval, but she offered no more argument. However, seeing that torn look in her optics, Lennox wondered if she too wondered if she could really risk Jack's life.

"I shall start the processing immediately," Perceptor announced, already turning on his heel and lumbering out of the hangar.

The tension in the air only seemed to thicken, each individual shifting their weight and looking at the other. It was one of the few times in Lennox's life that he pondered if he made the right decision.

* * *

Lennox wasn't really sure how processing energon was done, exactly. He knew Cybertronians couldn't readily consume energon in its crystallized state, so they found a way to convert it to a liquid substance. Free of contamination and everything. However, the process took a _long_ time. It was several hours until Perceptor returned to the hanger, an energon cube in his servos.

But rather than the cool, cerulean light Lennox was used to seeing, the cube was illuminated with a sickly, ominous violet glow.

Wings went up and armored plating rattled uncomfortably. Even the humans frowned at the sight. Perceptor seemed oblivious to the solemn atmosphere, setting the cube onto the ground.

"Here we are," he called, like he wasn't delivering an energy source of evil.

"That doesn't look like a lot," Epps commented, eyeing the half-full container.

"For a Cybertronian, this is less than a single dosage. However, considering your species is significantly smaller than ours, this should suffice as several for a single human."

"And you're just going to inject him with it?" Arcee questioned with distaste.

"Actually, that's not what Jack said," Lennox recalled.

Both eyes and optics widened as his audience registered his meaning.

"Wait, you're going to make him _drink_ that stuff?" Epps gasped.

"He said it's the only thing he can keep down."

"Ugh, I'm going to sick."

With that disgusted gag, the sergeant turned away and covered his face. Arcee and Simmons looked like they wanted to do the same. Optimus Prime and Ratchet merely watched with nervous curiosity, while Ultra Magnus had already long fled the room, under the guise of practicing drills with the other Autobots.

Lennox was the only one that dared to approach the wicked energon. The unnatural color made his stomach churn, but he made himself step close enough to feel the energy pouring off of it. He expected it to have the same effect as pure energon—making his hair stand on end as his skin tingled uncomfortably. But instead, the power of dark energon felt… warm.

Was this what Jack was attracted to?

The lieutenant colonel swallowed thickly, realizing what he had to do.

"You don't have a cup by any chance, do you?" he asked awkwardly.

It was actually Simmons that offered his own, yet when he handed it to Lennox, the former Ranger frowned.

"Chick-fil-a, really?" he drawled.

"What? You prefer Popeye's?" the former agent retorted sarcastically.

"No, that's not—oh, never mind."

Deciding beggars couldn't be choosers, Lennox accepted the Styrofoam cup. It was a process all in itself to transfer the dark energon from the massive glass cube to the tiny eight ounce container, but they managed to do it without spilling a single drop. Not wasting anymore time, Lennox headed back to the clinic.

There was no room in the cramped hallways for the Autobots to accompany him, so they were left to anxiously wait. Epps had no interest in joining. Simmons, on the other hand, wanted to see the event for himself, but Lennox refused. He didn't want to make Jack more distressed than he already was.

There were several curious looks as Lennox traveled down the hallways, and those that noticed that his cup was glowing stared for even longer. The NEST commander gave the door to Jack's room a respectful knock. He didn't receive a reply, but he didn't wait for one.

Jack curled underneath the thin sheets of the hospital bed, unmoving. At first it looked like he was asleep, but then the ex-Ranger noticed the teen's eyes were wide open, blankly staring at the wall. Lennox had to ignore the uncomfortable tightness of his chest

"I have something for you," he offered as he cautiously stepped forward.

Jack slowly blinked away his lifeless gaze. "Hmm?"

He looked over his shoulder at Lennox, curious more than anything. He squinted at the Chic-fil-a cup in confusion, even as he struggled to shift his weight. Deciding to have pity on him, Lennox took Jack's hand and gently pulled him into a sitting position. He adjusted the pillow behind the boy, wrapping his broad arm around his shoulders to guide Jack back to the mattress. Once situated, the teenager eyed the container, only to gasp as he saw the purple light that escaped the translucent cap.

"Where did you—"

"Will this work?" Lennox asked hesitantly.

He held it out, only to feel torn. The man still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. But what choice did he have?

Jack stared a moment more before he slowly, cautiously wrapped his fingers around the cup and took it with both hands. Lennox wasn't truly certain what to expect, but he felt uneasy as Jack only continued to hold the container, staring at the dark energon sloshing within.

"Is… something wrong?" Lennox inquired.

"Um, no, not really," Jack replied, blinking as if he was coming out of a trance. "It's… it's just… that I've only drank it from Megatron. I guess I just got used to it."

It was Lennox's turn to squint in confusion, watching as Jack guzzled down the Blood of Chaos Bringer.

* * *

 _Explosions surrounded Jack, sending fire and debris in all directions. Armored bodies moved beside him, letting battle cries and pained shouts. Cybertronians? No, they were too asymmetrical._ Organic.

 _Humans. Rangers._

 _The special operation soldiers fired at the faceless figures that moved through the smoke like ghosts. Drones? No, there were no wings, no tires, no claws._

 _It was MECH._

 _And they were winning._

 _Bullets tore into the Rangers' bodies, grenades tore them apart, and knives sliced into their flesh. They let out dying screams, some begging for mercy that never came. One by one, the Rangers fell._

 _"_ _Jack!"_

 _That voice. Jack_ knew _that voice._

 _"_ _Dad?" he called out into the chaos._

 _"_ _Jack!"_

 _"_ _Dad! I'm coming!"_

 _Without a second thought, the army brat ran as fast he could. His father was in trouble! He needed help! He needed him!_

 _Jack pushed his way through the mass of flailing bodies. He climbed over lifeless corpses. He sprinted through volley of gunfire. He ignored it all. He had to find Dad!_

 _Suddenly the thick smoke drifted away… to reveal a solid wall._

 _Jack skidded to a halt but before he slammed into it face-first. He turned, only to find another black, unmoving wall. Then another. And another._

 _Surrounding him. Trapping him._ Caging _him._

 _Silas laughed._

 _Jack whirled around to find the terrorist leader standing there. Pistol in hand. Silas's lips were pulled back in a wide, sadistic sneer as he slowly neared the army brat. Like a predator stalking towards its prey. The teenager scrambled backwards, to run, to escape._

 _Only for his back to slam against the wall._

 _"_ _You are_ _ **mine,**_ _" Silas purred, looming over his prisoner._

 _Jack think he tried to bolt. Suddenly merciless hands wrapped around Jack's throat, squeezing. He gasped, clawing at Silas's grip. But his hold was like iron, keeping him from ever escaping._

 _Then there was a clap of thunder, so loud that Jack flinched._

 _But there was no pain._

 _"_ _Jack!"_

 _"_ _D-Dad?"_

 _Silas was gone. Instead, Johnathan Darby stood over him with that warm, loving smile of a father._

 _Suddenly the walls keeping Jack imprisoned were gone. There were no more sounds of gunfire, no more sounds of death. There was no more war._

 _Only a son and his father._

 _Dad extended his arms as if to give Jack a hug. "Come on, son."_

 _Jack smiled. Dad was here now. Everything would be okay. He would always protect him._

 _Then Johnathan gasped._

 _Jack's eyes widened horror, locking onto the silver blade projecting through from the man's chest. Blood trickled from the corners of Dad's mouth and his eyes glazed over, even as the father whispered the army brat's name one last time._

 _"_ _Jack…"_

 _"_ _ **NO!**_ _"_

 _Jack leaped to his feet, to rush to his father's aid, but it was too late. Johnathan's body was shoved to the ground as a silver, titanic figure took his place._

 _Megatron's fangs were coated blood as he gave a twisted grin. His violet optics glowed brilliantly in the darkness. The Decepticon would take what rightfully belonged to him._

 _"_ _ **MINE!"**_

 _Claws lashed out, to tear out Jack's heart, to keep it for his own—_

"Jack! Jesus Christ, _wake up_!"

Jack let out a scream as he jolted awake. Glaring light blinded him and a wave of disorientation washed over him. His eyes darted around the strange room, trying to recognize his surroundings. Suddenly, light eyes and a stern face filled his vision.

 _Dad_?

The teen's vision focused and he remembered where he was. Jack recognized the figure with disappointment.

"It's alright," Lennox cooed at him gently. "It's just a dream."

Was it? It felt so real… Jack could still feel the heat of the flames against his face. He could still hear the Rangers' dying screams. He could still his father, with that—

The army brat flinched as the graphic image flashed before his vision, of Megatron's broad sword skewering Dad's dead. Lennox moved forward at his action, only to paused as Jack snapped, "I'm fine."

The NEST commander must have sensed the tone, because he wisely moved out of the boy's personal space. Jack used to the newfound air to breathe, trying to refill his lungs. A coat of sweat had formed over his skin, even though he was shivering madly. The teenager shut his eyes, trying to repeat Lennox's words in his mind, over and over like a mantra.

 _It's just a dream. It's just a dream. It's just another goddamned dream._

Silence hung in the air for several minutes, filled only with the sounds of Jack's shuddering pants.

Then Lennox spoke, "How long have you been having these nightmares?"

"Everyone has nightmares."

" _Jack_." Somehow Lennox manage to fill his name with indisputable authority, like a parent scolding a child. The man even fixed him with the same sort of look. "How long?"

Jack swallowed thickly. He avoided eye contact, but he could still feel like lieutenant colonel's stare boring into him, waiting. The teenager wondered if this was an interrogation tactic or something Lennox learned as a parent. Probably both.

Finally Jack sighed, "For a while now."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No."

Except Megatron, of course.

"Have you considered it?"

"What difference would it make?"

"Well… it might be good to talk to someone," Lennox suggested lightly. "There are people that can help."

The army brat almost immediately realized what the man was insinuating. He bristled.

"I'm not crazy," Jack snapped.

"I didn't say you were." Lennox's spoke in a soft, gentle tone. "Jack, you've been through _a lot_. Sometimes that stuff stays in your head, and sometimes the only way to get rid of it is to let it out."

"Trust me, sitting in a chair talking to a stiff doesn't fix anything."

Jack would know. After his father's death, June Darby had noticed her son's grieving had turned into depression. She sent him to a therapist, telling him the same thing, that he needed to _talk_. But talking didn't bring his father back.

"The army has people trained to work with soldiers. Prisoners of war," Lennox pressed on anyway. "I went to a psychologist. So did your father."

"It still won't change what happened," Jack huffed, still not convinced.

"No," Lennox agreed. "But can you learn how to… cope."

The brat gritted his teeth, raising his voice into a shout, "And what am I supposed to _say_? What MECH _did_ to me? How they _tortured_ me? Those bastards tore me _apart_. They beat me, over and _over_ , day after day! And they _laughed_!" Jack began trembling as Marcus's sadistic cackle echoed in his ears, even as he screamed for mercy. He couldn't keep the tremor from his voice as it weakened into a whimper. "Y-you have no idea how much I wished I could just give them what they wanted. Just so they would _stop._ But… I didn't know _what_."

Jack wasn't aware tears escaped from his eyes, trailing down his flushed cheeks. "How would someone even believe me? How do I not sound crazy, saying a giant spider-bot from another _planet_ tried to kill me? And I know—I _know_ the Decepticons are liars, but… but I can't get Airachnid's voice out of my _head_. A-And I wish she would just _leave_!"

The army brat ended with a pained cry. He slammed hands into his head, as if to knock the image of her terrible optics from his mind. But it was no use.

Like a pest, Airachnid had wormed underneath his skin and buried into his flesh. She had already destroyed his body. And now she poisoned his mind.

But Airachnid was not the only one that haunted his dreams. She was not the only one that sought to control him. Silas would stop at nothing to achieve his perfect world and Jack would be his tool.

And Megatron…

Lennox watched him, lips pulled into a deep frown. Then, finally, he nodded slowly, almost as if in approval.

"That's a start."

* * *

 **I added some more worldbuilding in this chapter, describing how the Autobots and Decepticons came to be stranded on Earth. I was originally planning to dedicate an entire chapter to it, but I simply didn't have enough material to work with, without interrupting the flow of the story.**

 **As for Jack and Lennox's conversation, by no means am I mocking or discouraging treatment for mental health. In fact, as a psychology minor, I hope to do the opposite. In this story, the character that needs therapy will actually get therapy. But, I do like relating my stories to real life, and it is not uncommon for people to initially refuse treatment for various reasons.**

 **But it nothing to be ashamed of. All of us are affected by mental illness in some way, and it is okay to talk about it. I have loved ones and I myself have been personally affected by mental illness. I understand not everyone may have the opportunity, but please, if you can, reach out, and I promise you that you will find someone that will listen.**


	27. Talk (Part 1)

Jack was _bored_. He fidgeted restlessly in the hospital bed. He wanted to move. He wanted to leave. He wanted to _escape_.

But he was denied that luxury. His lame body was cemented to the mattress, refusing to obey his will. Even the smallest of movements required all of his strength. Wires and tubes were attached all along the teen's body, practically acting as restraints. Should he disturb a single one, alarms would blare and alert anyone nearby of his attempted movement.

Jack had already learned that the hard way. He simply wanted to stand up. But once he placed his weight on the soles of his feet, his legs crumbled underneath him. The fall ripped several of the monitors from his skin, filling the air with deafening noise. A swarm of nurses had rushed in, only to find the army brat in a heap on the floor. Jack had been trapped ever since.

He fell into a bland routine. A steady stream of people would come in and out of his room, always with a different purpose. They would check his vitals or replace his IV. Sometimes they would give him "medicine," mostly vitamins and he could only guess what the others were for. Jack didn't know what good they would do, but he was able to keep them down, so he took them anyway.

Then they would practice "exercises" with him. They started simple. Sometimes the nurses would have him lay flat on his back and carefully push his leg back, then forward again, lifting one limb at a time. A nurse would instruct him to push or pull against them, which Jack could only guess was to measure his strength. Once they were satisfied, they brought out a medicine ball.

It was bigger than Jack's head, lighter than most of its kind and made of palpable rubber. A nurse would gently toss it to him, only for the ball to bounce out of his hands. And when _he_ tried to throw it, the ball would usually miss its target. Frustrated was the least Jack felt. He couldn't even play _catch_. The nurses only cooed at him, telling him he was getting better with each pass. Jack wasn't convinced.

Then Gonzalez would come and check on him. The teenager bristled every time he stepped into the room. Yet the doctor would only smile at him, talking in that fake polite tone. As if Jack was a _child_. The army brat would not fall for his façade. Not after DiBiase.

It was _almost_ a relief when Lennox would come and visit him, usually with a cup of dark energon. Jack assumed he was the only one brave enough to touch the vile substance. Yet it was the only thing the boy looked forward to.

The dark energon was warm as it settled in his stomach, radiating to his limbs. He felt renewed energy and strength with each dosage, even if it was brief. And yet, it still felt absurd whenever Jack drank it.

There were no talons scratching his scalp, no murmurs of encouragement, no powerful presence wrapping around him. No push against the bond, as Megatron send a wave of assurance—

No.

Megatron wasn't here.

Usually Lennox stayed, even after Jack finished the dark energon. Sometimes they simply sat in silence. Sometimes they would talk. Lennox would ask about his nightmares, but Jack wouldn't reply. He didn't want to retell the graphic scenes, not even to the former Ranger. Occasionally the NEST commander mentioned his offer, that he could invite someone else. Jack denied him every time.

This was no one's burden but his own. So he would deal with it himself.

Jack hadn't seen any of the Autobots since his awakening. Lennox would talk about them, usually telling him about how they were concerned for his welfare and relaying messages from the team. Most of them came from Arcee. Mostly telling him how to stay strong.

It made Jack want to scoff. How could he be _strong_? The army brat was freed from the chains of MECH. He was rescued from the clutches of Megatron. But nothing had changed. He was a prisoner. He was a prisoner of the Autobots. He was a prisoner in his own body.

Not even sleep could save him. If anything, it taunted him. Exhaustion would wash over Jack and the boy wanted to fall into its sweet embrace. But instead he only fought it. Because every time he fell into slumber, he would be drowned by the nightmares. Most of Jack's nights were spent laying awake, staring into the darkness.

It was the only friend he had.

Most of the medical staff left during the night, with only a skeleton crew left behind to keep the clinic operational. They tended to leave Jack alone, and he was just fine with that. He enjoyed the blissful silence. That was until there was a heavy thud from the outside hallway.

Jack jolted at the strange noise. What was that? He raised his head from the pillow, just to hear another loud thump. Then another and another. It sounded like someone was repeatedly slamming something against the floor. Curious and slightly concerned, the teenager shakily climbed into a sitting position.

It was a long, painful process, and by the time he rose, the thuds were just outside his door. He almost jumped when the door handle jiggled. What? Who would visit him at this hour? Lennox had left hours ago, so had the rest of the nurses. Jack bullied Gonzalez away for the night.

The handle shook more, almost violently. Fear began to claw at the boy's chest. He recalled the last time he was in the Autobots' care, MECH had followed him and snatched him while he was sedated. Had they come for him?

Thinking quickly, Jack looked around at the half dozen machines around him. There had to be a panic button somewhere around here, right? The teenager frantically fumbled for it, but he never found it. The door was ruthlessly swung open.

Blue eyes met blue optics.

"Why do you humans make your doors so _weird_ ," Arcee complained.

Jack stared at the impossible sight before him. The Autobot was right outside his door, still in her full size. She was balancing on all fours, crouching low to the ground which had to be an awkward position for the Cybertronian. The door framed half of her body, mostly her helm and shoulders.

"H-How—" Jack stammered, at a loss for words. It took him several attempts to speak. " _How_ did you get in here?"

"I walked, obviously," Arcee shrugged.

 _Crawled_ seemed to be a more appropriate term. Had she stood up, her helm would surely be in the ceiling. And she was the smallest of the Autobots. Jack realized that was the only reason she was able to traverse the human-made hallways, which were wide and tall to allow a steady flow of people. And a very determined femme, apparently.

Jack went on to the next question. "What are you doing here?"

"You won't talk to me."

"I'm stuck in a bed right now, in case you haven't noticed."

Arcee's optics darkened with guilt at that and her voice lowered. "You shouldn't here."

"At least we agree on something."

There was an awkward pause between them. Arcee shifted her weight and her optics wandered, obviously uncomfortable.

Finally she decided to ask, "How are you holding up?"

Where did Jack even start? He felt terrible, both physically and mentally. He was too scared to go to sleep. Pain radiated across his body constantly.

He spoke honestly, "I hate it here."

The Autobot leaned forward and craned her helm to observe the interior of the room. It was hardly big enough to contain her size.

"Can't say I blame you," she admitted. She finally settled her gaze on him. "Looking to get out of here?"

"Can't see how." Jack raised his arm to show the monitors latched on to him. "I can't even get up to go pee without having every doctor in a five-mile radius storm in thinking I died of a heart attack."

"I can help with that. If… you want me to."

Arcee ended her offer with a hesitance, as if she feared she was overstepping. Jack's stomach knotted. He wasn't expecting to talk to his guardian. He wasn't expecting this absurd situation at all. He still didn't know what to say. But he couldn't _stand_ the idea of staying confined any longer.

After a long moment of thought, Jack nodded. "Please."

Seeing the poor boy's desperation, Arcee nodded back. She shifted her weight and closed her optics in concentration. Nothing happened for several seconds. Then Jack felt it.

A buzz in the air. An invisible force that reverberated the air molecules around him, creating a sharp ring in his ear. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Jack recognized it was the same sensation he would receive when a Cybertronian flared out their field. No, that wasn't it. An EMP pulse.

Sure enough, the machines around him let out sounds of protest as they were overloaded with electromagnetic energy. The screens flickered and the numbers measuring Jack's vitals went haywire. Then the monitors went black, shutting down with a hum. Arcee opened her eyes.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"Well, I guess we have to find out," Jack replied, reaching for the wire taped to his chest right over his heart.

The teenager paused and swallowed nervously. Last thing he wanted was for Gonzalez to come rushing in, only to find his path was blocked by a robot that just tried to sabotage his equipment. Before Jack had a chance to change his mind, he forced himself to tug on the patch and it ripped off as easily as a band-aid. The army brat braced for the orchestra of noise to assault him. Yet there was only silence.

He gasped with relief. It worked! With that, Jack slowly, but excitedly, removed the wires—his restraints for the last several days—one by one.

"I hope you have a plan to put all those back," Arcee commented.

"I'll figure out something," Jack shrugged, sounding unconcerned.

"I'm sure you will." The Autobot then leaned back on her heels, reaching up to her chest as the plating of her hood moved to the side. "Oh, I got you something."

She pulled out a flimsy material from her subspace and tossed it onto Jack's lap. Sweatpants and a sweatshirt. The teen raised a quizzical brow. Arcee averted her gaze.

"I, um, thought you would want to be more comfortable," she explained awkwardly.

Well, she wasn't wrong. The only thing covering Jack was a rough cotton hospital gown that didn't even close at the back. Last thing he needed was to get caught only to flash everyone involved.

"Th-thanks," said the teenager, taking the clothes in hand.

When sitting up alone was difficult, trying to dress himself was even harder. Jack gritted his teeth as he forced his limbs to move, awkwardly moving his weight to properly slip on the sweats. Arcee looked like she wanted to help, but she was hesitant, likely because she either did not want to taint Jack's dignity or still did not fully understand human privacy. The doorframe was too narrow anyway even for her small frame. By the time Jack was done, he was panting for breath.

Noticing Arcee's concerned stare, he forced out in a light tone, "Better."

"Do you think you can stand? I can come in, if I have to…"

Arcee moved forward as if to worm herself through the doorway, but Jack stopped her.

"No, I… I can do it. I have to try."

The femme paused, almost looking like she wanted to argue further. But when Jack gave a determined look, she nodded in compliance. She shifted back, but kept her watchful gaze on her charge.

With a shaking hand, Jack pulled back the blankets. He dragged his legs over the side and pressed the soles of his feet to the floor. He gripped the edge of the mattress to steady himself, yet he couldn't stop his limbs from quivering. Gathering what was left of his strength, Jack slowly rose off the bed.

Instantly every muscle in his body screamed with protest. His knees quivered underneath him, the only warning before they buckled. Before Arcee could work up a gasp, Jack braced himself on the rails of the bed.

"I-I'm okay," he assured hastily.

Arcee only shook her head. "This was a bad idea. I'm sor—"

"I _need_ to do this."

A rubber ball wasn't going to make Jack feel any better. He needed to walk with his own two legs. To prove he was still functional. To prove Airachnid was not going to control him.

Jack held onto the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but he forced himself to move his grip with one heavy hand at a time. He leaned against the bed as he clumsily shuffled his feet across the cold floor. He must have looked ridiculous, like a baby learning to walk. If the look of pity in Arcee's optics was anything to go by.

Jack's muscles were burning with agony by the time he got to the end of the bed. His head was throbbing and suddenly it was hard to breathe. He was practically wheezing. Yet he refused to stop now. Arcee did not voice another complaint.

There was only a few steps between them. Yet in those few steps was nothing but open floor. Nothing for Jack to brace himself on. The boy made a face.

"I got you," Arcee assured, stretching out a servo towards him.

It took another minute for Jack to regain his breath. One hand still on the rail, he stepped forward, even reaching out for the femme's extended limb. Then the world listed. Jack let out a shout as the floor rushed up to meet him, which turned into a pained moaned when he landed with a hard thud.

"Jack!"

There was a terrible noise, loud enough for the teenager to flinch at the sudden ferociousness. The room around him was still spinning, but he managed to lift his head. Through his twisted vision, he saw that Arcee had pushed herself through the doorframe. Her upper body poked into the cramped room, her shoulders and wings preventing her from going any further. That didn't seem to deter the femme, who squirmed forward to reach the fallen boy.

"S-stop!" Jack exclaimed. "I got it!"

Arcee paused, but she still looked horribly reluctant. She could only watch as the army brat climbed to all fours. Not wanting to crawl the rest of the way like an infant, Jack moved his legs underneath him. He waited until the world stopped spinning to straighten. Only when he did, his legs wobbled, so much so that he pitched forward.

Only to fall onto a solid arm.

"I said I got you."

Jack glanced up, meeting Arcee's warm smile. His heart twisted. He only saw that smile a handful of times. That smile she only reserved for him. That told him that everything was going to be okay. That they were partners.

"I'm alright," Jack sighed, even though he was still shaking and panting. "We can go now."

Arcee nodded. She wiggled to move out of the doorframe and back into the hallway. Yet her frame did not budge. Her optics paled.

"I'm stuck."

"What?"

"I'm _stuck_!"

The Autobot wiggled again, more violently this time. The wall around her protested.

"Whoa, whoa! Hold on a second!" Jack gasped, raising his hands.

Arcee obeyed, but the teenager assumed it was only because she didn't have much of a choice.

She grumbled in discontent, "Why is everything on this planet so _tiny_ —oh, stop _smiling_! Help me!"

Was he smiling? Jack quickly smothered the curl of his lips. He knew it shouldn't be funny, as his partner had gotten into the predicament all because of him. But seeing Arcee with a pout on her faceplates, like a child who was denied a cookie, the boy couldn't help it.

Jack looked up and down, trying to analyze what was before him. As he observed before, it was Arcee's shoulders that were the problem. That and her limbs were at awkward angles. One held him upright while the other was wedged between her and the door, preventing her from gaining any leverage.

"Um… you don't happen to have any soap on you?" Jack asked.

" _Not_ funny," Arcee growled.

"Okay, I guess we're just going to have to use brute force."

He shifted his grip on her arm to her shoulders, leaning his weight against her. Jack doubted he could actually _push_ the several ton robot out, especially in his weakened state, but he hoped at least he could provide just enough exertion to help her out.

"Move a little, try to get your arm out… There! That's it! Okay… On three. Push with your legs as much as you can. One… Two… _Three_!"

Jack shoved against Arcee's shoulders with as little strength as he could muster. Meanwhile, the Autobot readjusted her stance, pushing back with her heels. One arm was braced against the outside wall and the other against the floor, so all four limbs pushed as one. The metal of the door groaned loudly and Jack feared they would tear the whole wall down.

Then suddenly there was the scrape of metal on metal and the army brat yelped as he fell forward onto a curved chest. The world shuddered around him and there was a deafening thud. For a moment, Jack feared their plan had failed (or they really did destroy his room). That was until _two_ arms wrapped around him.

"Don't tell _anyone_ about this," Arcee hissed.

Jack had to smother his giggle and merely nodded against her, not daring to challenge her. They reoriented themselves until the teenager was back on his feet and Arcee was properly on all fours.

"I want to walk," Jack told his partner.

"I'll help you. Lean against me."

With that, the odd pair made their way through the corridors. It was a slow and torturous process, each step was a struggle. Jack nearly had to lean his entire weight against Arcee while the Autobot wrapped a supportive arm around his waist. By some divine intervention, they didn't run into anyone during their journey. That was except for a woman posted at the nurse's station, head buried in her arms and her snores reverberating against the walls.

It was not a moment too soon when they finally made it outside. Jack gasped as the cool, stale air of the hospital was replaced by a warm, humid atmosphere. The smell of anesthetics and disinfectants faded away and the scent of salt tickled his nose. It was a clear night sky, revealing dozens of stars speckled across a black canvas. The quarter moon shone down on them.

Jack breathed deeply, trying to inhale as much fresh air as possible. He needed this. Even if it was brief, even if it was just a tease of freedom. He was happy.

"Come on, I know a place where we can get a better view," Arcee offered.

The army brat supposed despite the starry sky, their surroundings weren't the most appealing. They had stepped into the parking lot at the back of the hospital, filled with only a handful of unoccupied cars. The buildings of the rest of the base surrounded them as ugly grey walls. Streetlights polluted the darkness with glaring white light.

There was a sound of transformation beside him and Jack glanced over to see that Arcee had taken the form of a motorcycle beside him. There was a purr of an engine, almost as if invitation. After a moment of hesitation, the teenager shakily climbed on. It was no means graceful and he practically fell onto the hood as he gripped onto the handles for dear life. Mindful of her frail partner, Arcee drove slow, weaving down the empty roads.

Soon a great noise echoed from the distance, like the growl of a massive beast. It was a sound Jack recognized. The dull colors of the buildings were replaced by sloping white dunes. Grey asphalt morphed into lush green beachgrass and sea oats. Beyond that, the inky black waters of the Atlantic Ocean stretched all the way to the horizon. Yet it still managed to reflect the cool light of the moon, making it look like thousands of diamonds lay beneath the water's surface.

The sight was so foreign and familiar at the same time. Jack had lived in the desert for the last several years of his life, devoid of a single body of water. The last time he had seen it was when he had visited Diego Garcia, but it was not under the best of circumstances. And yet the steady roar of the foamy waves crashing against the sand echoed in the army brat's ears from a distant memory.

Jack only remembered glimpses of Georgian beach that he and parents visited. He was only a child back then, happy and horribly naïve. When he thought Dad would stay forever.

Arcee rolled to a stop, waiting patiently as the teenager lifted himself off and promptly transformed. Jack had to cling to her leg to stay steady. He had trouble walking across solid, flat ground. The boy wasn't too confident about traversing the uneven, soft sand of the dunes. His guardian must have seen his face of apprehension.

"I can carry you, if you want," Arcee murmured gently.

Jack didn't have the will or strength to argue, nodding in permission. As if the boy could crumble into dust at any moment, the Autobot delicately scooped him into her arms. Normally the teenage boy would be embarrassed being carried like a baby, but the steady, stocky motion of her long strides was almost lulling.

Arcee placed Jack on a patch of flat, dry sand and knelt beside him. The pair sat in silence then, almost looking peaceful as they stared out over the ocean. Yet Jack could sense the thread of awkward tension between, each wanting to speak, but not knowing what to say. Finally, after a long time, Arcee let out a deep sigh, vents expelling hot air built up her systems.

She spoke timidly, "Jack… I owe you an apology."

The boy blinked. He certainly wasn't expecting that. "F-For what?"

"You needed me. You needed me to protect you but… I left you."

Arcee's optics dimmed and Jack swallowed. He didn't want to mention the bitterness he felt when he thought he was abandoned. He still wasn't convinced otherwise.

Before the army brat could think of a response, the Autobot went on, "I thought if I saw you again, I… I could make things right. But then… I realized I was too late. _He_ took you."

"Arcee…"

"I could detect the traces of dark energon. I could _smell_ him on you. And… I got angry. And the worst part is that I don't even know who or what I'm angry with. But I know I took it out on you… a-and that wasn't fair."

Jack was speechless, simply because he didn't have a proper response. Of course Arcee knew about his secret meetings with Megatron. Ironhide had discovered that fact in a single moment. No doubt the rest of the Autobots were aware, judging by their wary stares. And the truth was, Jack had no excuse.

Megatron had come to him, and he didn't push him away.

Because the teenager didn't want to be alone.

While the Autobots…

Jack swallowed. "Megatron said when I was kidnapped by MECH, you didn't try to find me…"

Arcee's optics went bright. She shook her helm, saying, "No. When Raf and Miko told what happened, we didn't stop looking for you."

The army brat blinked at that. Jack looked up at his guardian with wide eyes as she leaned closer to him.

"Starscream told us where MECH was holding you and we managed to track down their base. But we arrived only to find Megatron had gotten there first."

Jack stared, trying to process the words, even as Megatron's voice rumbled in his ears.

 _"_ _Soundwave failed to detect any activity from them."_

"He lied to me…" The teen's voice was a broken whisper. "Why would he do that?"

"The same reason why Megatron gave you dark energon, why he visited you in Jasper, why he saved you from MECH. He has tried to kill everyone that gets close to you," Arcee added with a darkened expression. "All so he can have you to himself."

Jack expected his heart to be filled with black rage. But instead, his chest hurt with a pain he was all too familiar with.

"It always the same thing," he hissed under his breath. "Everyone I love either leaves me or betrays me. Who can I even trust? Who's next? You?"

Jack sent an accusatory glare and Arcee looked hurt.

"Jack, I—"

"You already left me once. How can I accept you apology when I don't know if it will happen again?"

In the corner of his vision, the teen _swore_ he saw Arcee flinch. Part of Jack knew he was being harsh. But he wasn't stupid. Galloway had ejected him from the Autobot base twice. Once the security advisor found him, the teenager would be removed. And Jack had a feeling Galloway wouldn't be so forgiving a third time.

"I won't," Arcee suddenly spoke, breaking his thoughts. The Autobot's optics had brightened. "I won't leave you again."

"How can you promise that?"

Arcee shifted even closer, so her electric cerulean optics met Jack's stormy blue eyes. "Because partners don't ditch partners"

 _"_ _Partners don't ditch partners."_

Jack still remembered that day, when he spoke those words to Arcee. When he first met Airachnid, when she first tried to kill him.

"And you are my partner, Jack," Arcee murmured to him. "No matter what happens."

The army brat could have never expected that his heart being torn in opposite directions would be so painful. Part of him wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that everything was going to be alright. But it wasn't alright. Nothing was right.

"No, I'm not," Jack retorted in a mutter, looking away from Arcee's intense gaze. "I'm… I'm a _monster_."

"That's not—"

"I killed someone."

Jack could sense more than see the Autobot stiffen beside him. His eyes were trained on the sand in front of him, but he only saw a pool of blood.

"H-he hurt me. I don't know how it happened, but I remember I… I wanted to _destroy_ him. A-and—" Jack shut his eyes tight and buried his face in his hands. He could still feel the wetness cloaking his skin, he could still hear the sound of Marcus's gurgling gasp, fighting for a breath that would never come. "—it-it felt _good_."

Even now, the sickening sense of satisfaction curled in Jack's chest.

The teenager was disgusted with himself. He could not blame Arcee if she was just as disturbed. Her response was only silence.

Jack couldn't stand it, filling it by continuing, "Something's wrong with me, Arcee. I-I feel so _angry_ , all the time. What if the blood-bond is changing me? After everything I've been through, everything I've _done_ … w-what if I becoming more like Megatron?"

Jack didn't know if there was an answer to that. He didn't know if he _wanted_ to hear the answer to that. He was aware of the dark thoughts that had been circling in his head, waiting to descend like vultures. The human wondered what Optimus Prime would think if he only knew—how repulsed he would be. What did Arcee think?

"Listen to me, Jack."

When the boy didn't move, a careful, but warm servo cupped his cheek and tilted his head to look back up at his guardian.

"You are not cruel, and you're not evil," Arcee said firmly, shaking her head. "You are a very good person, and very bad things have happened to you. But they don't have to define you."

The Autobot shuttered her optics and let out a heavy sigh, as if she were lifting a heavy burden off her shoulders.

"After what Airachnid did to me, to Tailgate…after she hurt _you_ , all I wanted was to make her _suffer._ But down in the caverns, when we fought, I didn't think about that. All I thought about was saving my _partner_. Do you see, Jack? It's not just about Decepticons and Autobots. We all have a light and a darkness in us. What matters is which one we choose to act on. _That_ is what determines who we are."

"Arcee…"

Jack fumbled for a proper reply, but when he found none, his head fell into a nod. He didn't resist when Arcee pulled him into an embrace. It wasn't until he buried his face in her shoulder he became aware of the stinging tears spilling from his eyes. The teen went to wipe them away, but just then a wave of exhaustion washed over him and he couldn't find the strength to lift his arm. He was so _tired._

There was a solid, comforting stroke along his back. Arcee whispered, "You can sleep now, Jack. I'll watch over you."

This time the boy did not protest. He closed his eyes, relaxing his partner's hold, underneath the stars. He did not dream that night.

* * *

Jack woke up to a rumble echoing across the sky. He started into an upright position, only to find a metal arm wrapped around his middle. Instantly memories flooded over him as the boy recognized where he was. He was still on the beach… with Arcee.

The stars had disappeared, replaced by a pale sky. Not blue—the sun hadn't risen yet. But it wouldn't be much longer until it did, as the horizon over the ocean was alit with fiery shades. There was another growl of thunder, yet when Jack glanced up, he was greeted with a cloudless sky.

 _That's not thunder—_

Just as the realization dawned on Jack, he noticed a shape speeding down the coastline. Even in the soft light of dawn, the boy could recognize its silver sheen.

Jack's heart jumped in his throat.

"Megatron?!"

What was he doing here? How he did find them? He supposed if the warlord tracked him down to a paramilitary base in the middle of the mountains, then Megatron could find him anywhere. Jack scrambled out of Arcee's hold, ignoring her startled grunt, and jumped to feet. Yet his guardian didn't seem to share his panic.

"Relax," she soothed. "He's a friend."

Friend?! Since when was the Decepticon leader—

Jack stared at the unidentified object, only to realize it was _not_ Megatron. It was certainly a human jet, but it was too far for the army brat to make out the model. Starscream? No, the cruel Air Commander was not a friend. Then who was it? The Autobots weren't flyers!

The jet slowed significantly as it neared the pair, yet that did nothing to ease the deafening roar of its thrusters. Just when Jack thought the flyer would crash until them, it transformed.

A large mech landed beside them, throwing a cloud of sand high into the air. He was certainly a Seeker, complete with a lean, agile frame, tall heel-thrusters, and broad wings. But rather than the silver armor like Jack first suspected, the boy realized the mech's plating was mostly white. There was red details across his frame, complete with the crimson badge of the Autobots on each wing.

Jack didn't know how to process what was in front of him. A Seeker with the Autobot sigil?! How was that possible?

"Ah, Arcee," the stranger greeted with a formal tone. Blue optics trained on Jack, full of curiosity and interest. "Is this your human I've heard so much about?"

"Yes, his name is Jack," Arcee answered calmly— _friendly_ even. As if the mech's appearance wasn't bizarre at all. "Jack, meet Skyfire."


	28. Talk (Part 2)

The Autobot Seeker, Skyfire, bowed his helm in greeting. "Hello, little one."

"Uh…" Jack wondered if this is what a stroke felt like. "Hi."

Skyfire chuckled, but unlike Starscream's sadistic cackle, it seemed to be filled with good humor. "Skittish thing, isn't he?"

Jack's eye twitched. Arcee replied for him, "It's been a long night."

"So I see. Well, young Jack, it seems quite a few individuals are worried about your disappearance. Optimus has sent me to search for you two."

The boy's cheeks became hot at that. People were looking for him? Well, he did vanish in the middle of the night…

"He's fine," Arcee assured. "We were just heading back."

That reply seemed to satisfy Skyfire. The white mech nodded and with a brief farewell, jumped into the air and transformed back into a F-16 Fighting Falcon. Jack winced slightly at the explosion of sound from the Seeker's engines as he jetted away, flying slow and low to the ground. The teenager stared until Skyfire was out of sight, and even then he could only speak what was on the forefront of his mind.

"He's a Seeker."

"An Aerialbot, actually," Arcee corrected. "But yes, Skyfire is Vosian."

It took a minute for Jack to recall the limited knowledge he had of Cybertron. "Vos… Isn't that where Starscream came from? Aren't they allied with the Decepticons?"

"Half of Vos. The other half swore fealty to the Prime. When he returned to power, Starscream exiled anyone that refused to accept him as the rightful Prince of Vos. Those that left his command no longer wanted to be affiliated with the Seeker armada, so they called themselves the Aerialbots. On Cybertron, it was known as the Great Schism."

Jack mulled over the information. That sounded like Starscream. The Air Commander demanded absolute loyalty, and terminated anyone that denied him. Even the human could tell that from the brief time Starscream led the Decepticons during Megatron's deep stasis.

And yet, Jack never thought about flying Autobots. All the ones he had met were grounders.

"So are there any more special guests I should be aware of?" he questioned.

"No, that should be the last of them."

With that, Arcee folded down into her alt mode, revving her engine as the motorcycle pulled up beside Jack.

"Let's go."

The army brat frowned. He wasn't sure he was ready to face reality yet. At least here, it was an escape. Even if it was all too brief.

With a heavy, reluctant sigh, Jack climbed onto the saddle. The action wasn't as much as a struggle as it was the night before, but there was still a fine tremble in his limbs. The boy was partly grateful when Arcee drove to the hospital rather than directly reporting to Optimus. Last thing Jack wanted was for the rest of the Autobots to see him in his pitiful state. Yet when Arcee pulled up the building's back entrance, the army brat frowned at the figure that was waiting for them.

Lennox was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. When the pair neared, the NEST commander's inscrutable expression morphed into one of relief.

"Ah, there you are," he hummed, stepping forward from his post. "We were about to send a search party."

"For me?" Jack gaped.

 _"You… looked for me?"_

"Of course."

 _"You would think I would not?"_

Jack carefully raised himself off of the saddle, gripping the motorcycle's handlebars for support. Only when he took a step onto solid ground, his body swayed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lennox gasped, launching towards Jack and catching him before he could crumble.

The army brat tried to bring himself to stand, only for his body to go limp against Lennox's chest and his nails frantically dug into the man's sleeve. Arcee rapidly transformed behind him in a panic, servos laying across his back. Jack thought he heard his name, but he was too busy trying to breathe properly to reply. Lennox frowned at him.

"You shouldn't be walking around," he scolded lightly.

The NEST commander's glare shifted to Arcee, whose wings fluttered in anxiety. It took a couple seconds for enough oxygen to return to Jack's brain, but even then, his mouth moved before he could think.

"It was my idea." Arcee and Lennox looked to him with surprised expressions. Jack gulped at the sudden attention and told lamely, "I-I wanted to get out. It was… nice."

Lennox blinked. He glanced back and forth between the human and the Transformer, like he was looking for a puzzle piece that was missing. Jack couldn't tell if he was satisfied or not when the man only gave a sigh.

Then he said, "That's… good."

Not asking anymore questions, Lennox shifted his hold on Jack and draped the boy's arm over his broad shoulders. As the ex-Ranger was over a head taller than the teenager, the position was awkward. Still, Jack preferred it over Lennox carrying him like a baby through the hospital. The lieutenant colonel gently guided him to the double doors, but Jack paused to turn back to Arcee.

"Um… thanks," he said awkwardly, words once again escaping him. "Maybe... we can hang out another time?"

Lennox only cocked an eyebrow while Arcee blinked in surprise. Then her lips curled in a soft, warm smile.

"I would like that," she hummed.

Realizing there was no more she could do, Arcee transformed into a motorcycle. Lennox only shook his head when she drove out of sight.

"I don't know how the hell she managed to get her servos on you, but I learned when it comes to Transformers, it's better not to ask any questions."

Jack agreed with him.

Once inside the building, the teenager discovered that the medical staff had returned for the day. Doctors and nurses hurried to and fro, only focusing on the clipboard in their hand and their destination. Jack hoped it meant it could mean he could slip through unnoticed, only to be denied that wish when there were a few concerned cries.

Looking like a beaten, sleep-deprived ragdoll in Lennox's grip, the army brat supposed he made a startling sight. He tensed as several strangers charged toward him. Lennox must have felt it.

"I got him," the NEST commander quickly assured, even tightening his grip on the boy.

The nurses looked horribly reluctant, and after several minutes of banter, Lennox ushered Jack further into the hospital. The trip to his room seemed longer than his escape, and even then Jack found himself trapped in his makeshift cell all too soon. Lennox effortlessly lifted him back onto the bed and one of the nurses didn't hesitate to begin reattaching the monitors. Jack's heart sunk.

He had his taste of freedom, and it was taken away from him just like that. Leaving only bitterness on his tongue.

"Optimus told me once that we all have the right to choose," Jack recalled. "What if we don't? I never chose any of this…"

Lennox frowned at the boy's somber tone, but he spoke frankly, "You're right. Sometimes we don't always get what we want. We just have to pick from the cards we have in our hand."

The metaphor was a stretch, but Jack understood his meaning. The teen recalled Arcee's words from last night.

 _"_ _We all have a light and a darkness in us. What matters is which one we choose to act on. That is what determines who we are."_

"Arcee said something like that, too," he told. "That I have to decide who I want to be."

"And who do you want to be, Jack?"

The teenager swallowed at that and he considered the answer. He felt he had been asking himself that question his entire life. Was he like his mother or his father? Was he a boy or a man? Was he an Autobot or a Decepticon?

"I don't want to be like Megatron," Jack decided after a long time. He looked up to Lennox, his eyes full of resolve. "And I don't want to be like Silas or Airachnid. But… I'm not my father. I'm not Optimus Prime or Orion Pax or whoever everyone thinks I am. I… I want to be my own person. Jack Darby.

"And… I don't want to be in pain anymore. I want to be with my friends—my _family_. I want to _live_. If you're saying there's someone that can help me learn how, I… I want to talk to them."

Lennox stared down at him with an inscrutable expression at his speech. Then, his lips curled in a ghost of a smile.

"Alright," he nodded. "I can make the arrangements. And, I think this might help with that."

Jack watched the NEST commander curiously as he took a small, white box from the counter on the side of the room and dropped it on the teen's lap. Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realized what it was.

"A smartphone?! Is this for real?"

Even as he said the words, the teenager was already tearing into the package to verify its contents. Lennox only shrugged.

"I figured since you lost your cell phone, you would need a new one," the man explained.

Jack didn't even know what happened to the basic flip phone he owned. No doubt it was taken when he was kidnapped by MECH, and the teenager hadn't looked forward to replacing it. Jack and his mother lived on a tight budget, as both their jobs were not generous, and most of their income went to the teen's college savings. Some months it was difficult just to cover the phone bill, never mind buying a new one. A smartphone was out of the question.

Then Jack realized, "Wait a second… did-did you get this just for _me_?"

"I, um, thought you might appreciate it."

The sentence came out awkwardly, as if that was all that Lennox could think of to say. The man shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Jack was speechless. He hardly knew the NEST commander and Lennox certainly didn't owe him any favors. Yet the man went out of his way to find him a gift, a valuable one at that. All just to make Jack happy.

His body moved without him even registering it. Restored with new vigor, Jack lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Lennox's broad torso. The ex-Ranger started slightly in surprise, but quickly overcame it to carefully return the embrace.

A hand fell on top of Jack's head, but instead of possessively tangling in his hair, it was simply a warm weight. Lennox's arms were strong and sturdy. Protective. Just like Dad's.

Tears sprung from the boy's eyes, but he didn't know why. He was relieved his face was buried in Lennox's chest, or else the lieutenant colonel might see them. Jack was aware no words were enough, but he could at least try.

Though muffled, his voice was obviously trembling as his spoke, "Th-thank you."

"You're welcome, son."

* * *

Lennox kept his promise.

Jack was introduced to Dr. Rachel Gardner. She had spent some time on Diego Garcia and she tended to the shell-shocked troops there. At least she was aware of the secret war going on outside her doorstep. That didn't make their first meeting any less awkward.

She was a tall and lean woman, dressed in a professional blazer and matching skirt. Her blonde hair had begun to fade and there were crow's feet branching out from her eyes. However, her emerald eyes seemed to be sharp and critical as ever. Jack could feel them boring into him like daggers the instant the psychologist stepped into the room.

She at least tried to comfort him with a soft smile and sweet voice, almost combatting her stern appearance, but Jack was not fooled. Gardner started with asking personal questions, going so far as to interrogating about his early childhood. He kept his answers as brief as possible and stuck to silence when he could. The teenager hoped they could be satisfactory enough, but Gardner didn't give him that leisure.

"Jack, you realize I can't help you if you don't let me in," the psychologist told in a tone that the boy's mother would use against him. She was perched in the chair in the corner of the room, complete with a clipboard in her lap.

"I don't see how this has to do with anything," Jack retorted.

"I just want to get to know you."

"Then read my profile."

"I already read your profile. In this profession I've learned people aren't exactly the same in person as they are in paper. Don't you agree?"

Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I've learned people aren't much better in person, either."

"What makes you say that?"

"People are liars."

"Some people," Gardner agreed. "Some people… want to find the truth. That's my part of my job: to peel back the layers of the mind and unveil true self underneath." The psychologist's analytical eyes meet Jack's ice-blue ones, as if she was trying to read his thoughts behind them. "And something tells me you like to seek the truth, too."

"I want to see the good in people," Jack corrected. "But lately I've been having a hard time finding it…"

"So are you going to give up? Are you going to keep trying?"

"Trying what?"

"To see the good."

Jack didn't know how to respond to that. How could he believe in the "good," after everything that had happened to him? He had been deceived, betrayed, tortured, and used. Giving up seemed like a logical option.

But then there people that still cared about him. Like Lennox. Arcee had told him that everyone had a light. Jack would like to see that light again.

"I… I would like to try," he murmured finally.

"Alright, Jack," Gardner nodded. She placed the clipboard in her briefcase and turned to her patient, ensuring him that he had her undivided attention. "Then let's try together."

She visited him frequently then. Gardner always came to his room, so the bedridden boy didn't have to crawl to her office. It was quiet at first, the army brat keeping up his guard even as the psychologist tried to tear it down. Then, like a damn giving way, Jack found himself spilling out more and more. He talked and talked—how his life experiences, how he felt, what had happened to him—and he never felt ashamed of what he was saying.

Gardner always listened.

Weeks went by, and then Jack began to walk.

It was a long, strenuous process. At first the nurses tasked him with moving over to the chair in the corner. It was only a matter of feet, so it should have been a simple task. Instead the teen usually had to rely on the staff to half-carry, half-drag him across the room. While Arcee's support made him feel warm and safe, being surrounded by scrutinizing strangers watching him waddle across the floor filled Jack with humiliation. It was even worse when they gave him a walker.

Gonzalez tasked him with going from one side of the hospital wing to the other, _insisting_ it was necessary. So everyone got to see Jack in all his glory, hobbling around with a hunched back like an old man.

It wasn't until the head physician became satisfied with the teen's motor skills that he cleared him for more intensive physical therapy. Jack was taken to another part of the hospital and given to the therapists there. They would make him walk between a set of bars, encouraging him to plant more weight onto his step. Initially the army brat would hold onto the bars for dear life, until eventually his legs no longer buckled when he stood.

His therapy moved onto more complicated contraptions after that—Jack was strapped into treadmills, placed in weight machines or tied to instruments he couldn't even name. With each new exercise, every muscle his body would scream with protest. His legs would ache terribly, hours after he was returned to his lonely bed.

More than once, the army brat's discomfort would agitate the blood-bond and he would receive an annoyed mental lash in response. Jack learned to be more careful, sealing his side of his connection. Megatron was watching him. The realization only tore his heart in two.

Jack's only relief were his visits with Arcee. They had gotten lucky when the Autobot first infiltrated the hospital that they hadn't gotten caught in the act. The boy doubted it would happen again. Especially considering the guilt look in her dull optics, telling Optimus Prime had likely scolded her for her antics. So there was a time that they could only communicate through messages—primarily through Jack's new phone. Although it was an adjustment, having a full keyboard displayed to him had proved far more convenient and faster than a nine-digit keypad. Sometimes Arcee would call him, and her voice was enough to keep him company.

It wasn't until Jack was finally freed from his restraints that they could meet. No longer fearing that the teen's heart could give out, Gonzalez removed the monitors, but stressed the patient would remain in his clinic for a while longer. Little did the doctor know, Jack used his newfound freedom to sneak out of the medical wing in the late hours of the night.

Arcee was always there to greet him. Sometimes they would linger by the hospital; other times they would go to the beach. Occasionally they took a drive around the base. The sound of the motorcycle's engine beneath Jack, the smell of the fresh, salty air, and the feeling of the wind rustling his clothes and running through his hair—it would rejuvenate him better any drug than any doctor could give him.

Maybe Arcee could take him out again tonight. Jack had started jogging today! It had only been for a few seconds, but it was _something_. Finally, _finally_ , for the first time in _weeks_ , he was getting progress. He was getting better! He couldn't wait to tell Arcee!

As if on cue, his cell phone rang. Like usual, there was no caller ID. Cybertronians could hack into radio frequencies in order to use human communication systems. However, the radio towers had no way to translate the complex line of code into any form of language.

Jack pressed the button and brought it to his ear, already pulling himself off the bed. "Hey, Arcee, I was just about—"

 _"_ _Hello, Jack,"_ Silas responded.

Jack's knees buckled.

All the air was ripped from his lungs and his heart stopped beating in his chest. He could feel the warm blood draining from his face.

No… no, no, nono _no_ _ **no.**_

This was another nightmare. But even as Jack tried to dismiss the voice—the voice he never wanted to hear again—something cruel told him that it was real.

"H-how— _how_ did you get this number?"

 _He_ didn't know the number, how did Silas—

 _"_ _Surely you should know by now that MECH possesses an unlimited amount of resources,"_ the bastard purred. _"We've been looking for you for quite some time now—I was starting to think we would never find you, considering the last time I saw you…"_

The last time Silas had saw him, when Jack was being taken away by Megatron. If the MECH leader was even there. Had he watched the destruction of his base from afar?

 _"_ _I heard you were quite ill. How are you feeling?"_

"I was doing better until you called."

 _"_ _I've been there before. In a few months you'll be to yourself old self."_

Jack didn't find that assuring. He knew Silas didn't call to check up on him. Apparently the anarchist was well aware of how the teenager was, if he had been monitoring him so closely. The single thought made Jack paranoid.

Were they watching him? How? Had they had hacked into the security cameras? Or was it the staff? Which one of his caretakers was a spy?

Jack found his hand was trembling so badly that he could barely hold the smartphone. He transferred it over to his other hand, as if it was any better. It took a moment for Jack to collect himself. He couldn't sound weak. Not to Silas.

"What do you want?" he demanded. It wasn't as threatening as he wanted, but at least this voice didn't shake.

 _"_ _Isn't it obvious? I want_ you."

The possessive statement chilled Jack to the bone, but he managed to keep up his brave facade. "And what makes you think I will just hand myself over to you?"

No response.

"You hear me, Silas? I'm not—"

 _"_ _J-J-Jack…?"_

Rather than the MECH leader's cold drawl, the voice was filled with fear, confusion, and a mother's worry.

"M-Mom?!"

Then there was a _second_ voice, just as familiar.

 _"_ _Just wait until I get out of these cuffs!"_ Miko was yelling angrily at her captors. _"I'm gonna tear you ap—AH!"_

Jack cringed as the girl's cry was accompanied by a loud slap of skin on skin, followed by a thud as Miko was thrown to the floor. There was a whimper—unmistakably Raf's.

Then Silas's voice returned, filled with smug satisfaction, _"Is that enough motivation for you?"_

Suddenly Jack forgot how to breathe. Mom, Miko, Raf… Everyone he loved… MECH had taken them.

"Y-you—you… _bastard_! I swear if you hurt them—" Jack started only for Silas to leisurely cut him off.

 _"_ _Rest assured, your loved ones will remain unharmed if you agree to cooperate. An eye for an eye, Jack. Your life, for theirs."_

Jack closed his eyes and cycled through a quick breathing exercise, trying to calm his racing heart. It didn't help much, but at least he could bring himself to speak.

"So I turn myself in, you'll let them go?"

 _"_ _Oh, Jack, always the optimist."_ The teen scowled at the condescending tone, but could only listen as Silas went on, _"That's only ensures that'll I'll keep them alive. If you want them to be set free, it's going to be at a higher price."_

Jack's mouth was painfully dry. What was more valuable than him? He had to summon what was left of his courage to ask.

"And what would that be?"

 _"_ _The Autobots, of course."_

"No _fragging_ way—"

 _"_ _Though I'm not picky one about which one you choose to bring me,"_ interrupted Silas. _"Even that motorcycle will be sufficient enough. That one's yours, right? Arcee? Or we could finish our work with Bumblebee. My scientists quite appreciated his last donation to the cause—though, they find Optimus Prime_ far _more interesting."_

With each name, Jack's trembling worsened. Silas hadn't been only watching him. He had been watching the _entire team._ The teenager had been told there had been a mole buried NEST's ranks—he had been the one behind Jack's kidnapping from Diego Garcia and he eventually broke under interrogation. But how many more were there? Could anyone be trusted? Was anyone safe?

Jack's voice was harsh. "You're a _monster."_

Silas only let out a light laugh at his snarl. _"Come now, we've already been over this. I'm not the only monster here. After all, I clearly remember that you killed an unarmed man."_

"Marcus _tortured_ me," the army brat retorted. He added hatefully, "You _ordered_ him to torture me!"

 _"_ _Do you think that'll excuse what you did? Whatever will Johnathan think?"_

"Don't you _dare_ say his name!"

 _"_ _So it seems I struck a nerve."_

Jack wanted to curse himself. In a flip of a switch, rage had melted the fear that frozen his body. Now his heart hammered in his chest and his breaths came out short and shallow. He took hold of the bed's railing in attempt to lessen trembling, his knuckles were a bone-white. Jack shut his eyes tight. He needed to calm down. He couldn't let Silas get under his skin. But the damage was already done.

The anarchist went on nonchalantly, _"I've sent you coordinates. Have you received them?"_

Jack dared to look at the screen on his phone, seeing an unopened text message. "Y-yes."

 _"_ _Good. Bring an Autobot to me, and I'll let your mother and your friends go in one piece."_

"Last time I played your game, you tried to have my mom killed. How do I know you won't go back on your word?"

 _"_ _You don't. But you're not going to risk a life just for yours, aren't you?"_

Jack gritted his teeth and the hand by his side curled into a fist. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit something because he knew Silas was right.

How many people had already died because of him? The army brat had already lost his father. He didn't know what he would do with himself if he lost someone else.

Silas took his silence as an affirmative, continuing, _"You have one hour."_

"That's not enough time—"

 _"_ _It will be. That is if you want to see your little 'family' ever again."_

Before Jack could work up another protest, the line went dead with an ominous click. Suddenly his legs could no longer bear his weight. The boy fell back onto the mattress, and he had to keep his iron hold in order to prevent falling to the floor.

His mind was spinning, still trying to process everything that just happened. What was he supposed to do? _What was he supposed to do?!_ Jack had no doubt that if he failed to comply to Silas's demands, he wouldn't hesitate to kill his captives. But the army brat wasn't a fool, either. Once Jack surrendered, MECH would kill them all. Including the Autobots.

The boy didn't even know how he would explain everything to them. What could he possibly say? Bumblebee and Bulkhead would no doubt go into a rage once they found out that their charges were in danger, and the rest of the Autobots would follow suit. They would tear apart MECH's entire base. They had already done it before.

 _Surely Silas should realize that by now_ , Jack thought. _Taking a hostage isn't going to do him any favors._

Was that why he took three captives this time? More leverage to use against the Autobots? Or was he hoping they would get caught in the crossfire? When NEST forces sieged MECH's facility in order to save Jack, it had almost gotten him killed.

Not to mention the unsanctioned mission nearly cost the treaty. The spontaneous trip to Paris didn't help anything, either. Jack didn't want to think what would happen if Galloway caught the Autobots in the act for a third time.

 _What do I do? What do I do?_

The words repeated in Jack's head, stuck in a loop, as he paced back and forth in the hospital room. He was painfully aware of each second passing by—getting closer to Silas's deadline.

An hour. How could he possibly convince the entire team, or a _single_ Autobot, to comply in such an amount of time? It almost took the patient that long to limp out of the hospital! Rallying a counterforce was out of the question. Although NEST forces were relatively small and extremely disciplined, Lennox would need more time to mobilize his forces. Perhaps that was why Silas had given him such a time constraint.

 _So I have no choice but to do what he wants._

But why did Silas did want an Autobot as well? The MECH leader made it seem he was more interested in Jack, and how to use his condition to create the perfect soldier. Or was he plotting to reconstruct another Transformer, like the one the teenager had destroyed? If MECH succeeded, owning an army made of superhumans and a limitless supply of drones, they would be unstoppable. Jack had to stop them before that happened.

 _"_ _Prove to me that this 'army' is worth my attention. And then, I just may consider their desecration."_

The army brat froze as Megatron's words echoed in his head. Suddenly a sinful thought wormed itself into his head. He tried to slap it away, but it lingered, crawling to the forefront of his mind. Telling him he didn't have a choice.

Jack swallowed thickly and looked down at his feet. He stood barefoot on the cold floor, only a matter of inches from the foot of the hospital bed. It sat on wheels, but it was heavy, mostly made of metal.

It would certainly hurt. Then again, that was the point.

He steeled his nerves, all the while flaying back the layers he had sealed over the blood-bond. Then, as hard as he could, he rammed his foot into the iron pole of the bed.

Jack had to smother his yowl of pain as his toe was bent at an awkward angle and the fragile bone rammed was back into its socket. He gritted his teeth and held onto the rails to stop himself from hopping around like an idiot. The boy focused on the throbbing agony that cascaded over his foot, shooting up his leg and drowning almost all of his senses. He let it overwhelm his mind, so that the pain was the only thing he registered.

Like all the times before, the response was almost instant.

A tidal wave of darkness crashed over the blood-bond. It drowned his discomfort with black rage and sheer possessiveness, daring to challenge whoever had damaged what belong to _him_ —

And just as quickly as the dominating presence appeared, it turned on Jack's psyche. The teenager choked on another cry as the darkness slapped at his thoughts. It was a sensation Jack wasn't unfamiliar with, but Megatron's mental assault wasn't less pleasant. Even if it was somewhat warranted, given how the human had chosen to abuse the bond between them.

The inferno of fury had lessened to simmering anger and annoyance that Jack had tricked the Decepticon leader. Already the boy could feel Megatron building up firewalls over the blood-bond, blocking Jack's emotions from reaching him.

"Wait!" he called out. He wasn't sure if Megatron could actually hear him, but saying the word aloud somehow helped Jack send it over the blood-bond. Still, it took him several long seconds to speak. "I, I… um, I need your help."

Impatience shifted to curiosity. It wasn't strong, but it was there. Jack took at advantage of it.

"MECH… took my family."

The teenager sent a burst of thought, showing Megatron the brief memory of his conversation of Silas, of the storm of emotions swirling in his chest.

Jack didn't know how to translate Megatron's initial response. The warlord cared little for other humans, even the boy's loved ones. He _certainly_ didn't care about whatever ill fate that came to the Autobots. However, just the idea of Silas plotting to steal his property was enough to fill Megatron with dark anger.

"You wanted evidence to go after MECH," Jack reminded the warlord. "Is this good enough?"

For several long moments, Megatron's end of the blood-bond was filled with silence. Then—

 ** _Where?_**

A mental image of the coordinates flashed across Jack's eyes.

 ** _Follow his instructions._**

 _"_ _What?_ No—"

The Decepticon leader had an idea. And it filled Jack with horror.

"Please don't make me," he begged aloud.

In response, assurance stroked against his mind. It would be alright. This time Jack was not going to face MECH alone.

"But the Autobots—"

 ** _Unlike the Autobots, Decepticons are not bound by human bureaucracy._**

The army brat swallowed. That was what he was afraid of. He felt the darkness wrap around him in the shadow of an embrace. Jack shivered as the details of Megatron's plan whispered from the back of his mind like sinful thoughts.

He would have to wait. If he replied too soon, Silas would get suspicious. The closer to the deadline, the better.

The mere thought gave Jack anxiety.

"What if I get caught," he pointed out. "Or something happens. What if Silas won't wait that long—"

The thought was sliced in half before he could even finished it. The embrace tightened. It would work.

"How do you know?"

 ** _I know._**

Jack shut his eyes tight. It was a gamble, at best. So many things could go wrong. But every other option ended in disaster. He didn't have a choice.

 ** _Soundwave will open a groundbridge soon._**

With that, Megatron retracted his mental embrace and the darkness retreated to the back of Jack's mind. The blood-bond was still open—the boy could feel the warlord's watchful presence. It didn't make him feel any better.

Jack decided it was the longest hour of his life. He paced his room like a lion in a cage, even though he probably looked more like a newborn fawn. He was trembling madly and his legs had reached the point of exhaustion, making his stride wobbly and unstable. Jack ignored it, though, instead of spending his time counting every second that went by. It felt like he was counting to eternity.

Even then, Jack started at the loud _pop_ as the groundbridge came into existence, filling the room with spinning bright colors. It only made his anxiety spike, realizing what was on the other side.

Who was he even doing this for? The Autobots, or the Decepticons?

 _You're doing this for your family,_ Jack reminded himself.

Mom, Raf, Miko.

And everyone else that MECH put in danger. They had to be stopped. _Silas_ had to be stopped.

Summoning the last of his courage, Jack stalked through the groundbridge.

* * *

 **Phew, a lot went down in this chapter. I will never understand how it takes +5,000 words to get to Arcee getting stuck in a door and then it takes ten plot points to get to +5,000 words. The woes of writing.**

 **First off, I know Skyfire's appearance was brief, but he will come into play later. Like Arcee promised, he will be the last Autobot introduced in this series. The backstory of of the "Great Schism" is of my own making.**

 **Although Jack has rekindled his relationship his guardian and Lennox, I do not believe that means his mentality is automatically healed. He still has a long way to go, and he's now untrustworthy of strangers. Especially psychologists, whom he's had bad experiences with.**

 **Yes, I know in today's age, a smartphone is nothing special. But Transformers: Prime takes when they were relatively just coming out (jeez, where does the time go). They even dedicated a commercial.**

 **Which brings to the conclusion of this chapter. At long last, we've finally come to the climax of this story. I suggest bringing popcorn for the next few updates.** **;)**


	29. Chernobyl

**So it's been a rough week. After three all-nighters, two failed exams, and a death in the family, I somehow found a way to finish this chapter. This is will probably be the last one for a little while, because I will need some time to recuperate and focus on my studies. Don't worry, I will return to this story soon, since we're so close to the end (only 2-3 chapters left, depending on how they go), but this is also just a hobby and I realize I need prioritize things in my personal life. Thanks for understanding.**

 **The background information for this chapter was provided by the Youtube channel** ** _Exploring with Josh._** **If you like history or exploration videos, I would definitely recommend.**

* * *

Frigid air greeted Jack like a slap to the face. He could feel the chill seeping into his clothes and biting his skin. He was grateful that he had put on a pair of jeans and a gray hoodie, not unlike his favorite sweater (which had long been discarded). Something crunched underneath the teen's tennis shoes and he glanced down to see fine white powder.

Snow.

With a puzzled squint, Jack looked around, only for his confusion to grow. It looked like he had been dropped off in the middle of a city. The teen stood on a wide road, the asphalt covered in ice and cracks. Tall buildings surrounded him, some marked with faded letters of a foreign language. The paint had long been stripped off others, leaving a grey husk behind. There were walls of trees in the place of sidewalks. The cold air had stripped them bare of their coat of leaves, leaving dark, twisted skeletons reaching towards the sky.

Jack remembered the first time he had been kidnapped by MECH. He had managed to escape and hid in a nearby mining town. It played on the boy's fears, knowing people had likely _died_ there _,_ all for a profit. Especially considering the town's decrepit state, as if the very buildings were dying. While the mining town had been filled with the sense of death, this city was frightening in its own way.

It was _empty_.

There was not a single soul to be seen. No one walked across the intersections, no cars drove down the avenue, no faces appeared in the shattered windows. There was no sound—not even a breath of wind—having a cold, eerie silence in the air. It was like the entire city was completely devoid of life. Like it was abandoned, left frozen in time. It was then that Jack realized where he was.

Chernobyl.

No, that wasn't right. Jack struggled to remember his lessons from history class. They watched a documentary about the nuclear accident. Chernobyl was just the name of the power plant itself, just outside the city of… what was it? Prep? Prep-yat? Prep-ee-it? No… it was Pripyat.

They had been conducting a safety test, but the nuclear reactor core overheated and it resulted in an explosion. Unable to stop the radiation from pouring out, the entire city was ordered to evacuate. And no one ever returned.

Jack had read recently that scientists deemed the radiation levels were relatively safe, after years of removing the contaminated material. But there were still trace amounts that could never be erased, so the Ukrainian government still had the city blocked off from the public. They went so far to surround it with guarded outposts. Only those with federal approval could enter Pripyat.

Jack wouldn't put it past MECH if they somehow bought off the government to allow them to "borrow" the most isolated city in the world. Yet there was no sign of the paramilitary organization.

Jack half-expected to be greeted with an army. Maybe Silas had sent him here in hopes he would freeze to death. Or that he would have a long, painful death caused by the radiation. Then he saw it: a flicker of movement along a rooftop. There was a rattle of armor and something shifted nearby. Jack heard heavy footsteps in the snow behind him.

"Hands up," an iron voice ordered, "nice and slow."

The army brat did what he was told, cautiously raising his arms above his head. He didn't move a muscle as he saw other shadows stepping into the open. The MECH soldiers were wearing full body armor and had wicked-looking rifles pressed against their shoulders, stalking towards Jack like a pack of predators. He had to suppress a whine at the faceless masks—the same ones that had been haunting his nightmares for weeks.

He was dragged back to reality when a vice grip appeared on his wrist, wrenching his arm down behind his back. His other arm received the same treatment and Jack hissed as metal cuffs bit into his skin.

"Are the cuffs really necessary?" he groaned.

"Not taking any chances with you," his captor retorted, the restraints clipped into place.

The man proceeded to pat him down, and Jack's breathing quickened at the rough treatment. He almost protested when the MECH agent took his smartphone. He just got it and now it was being taken—he really owed Lennox.

Satisfied Jack wasn't smuggling anything else, the militiaman clapped a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's go."

The boy was shoved forward, barely managing to stay on his feet. Last thing he needed was to land face-first and make a pathetic spectacle in front of his audience. Some of the MECH soldiers fell into step beside him, keeping their rifles across their chests. He noticed others had disappeared back into the shadows.

It was then the deafening silence returned, save for the sound of the soldiers' boots stomping on the ground and the rattling of their gear. Jack quietly cycled through his breathing exercises, trying to remind himself to stay calm, even as his heart hammered against his ribs. How many times did MECH drag him around their base like this? It was all too easy to replay the gray buildings with colorless walls and the sound of his captors' breathing with malicious laughter.

Would the Decepticons be able to find him? Would the Autobots? _Anyone?_

Before he even realizing what he was doing, Jack reached towards the back of his mind, extending his thoughts over the blood-bond.

 _Megatron?_

 ** _I am here, little one._**

Sure enough, that familiar, dark presence pushed back, firm and dominating as always. Jack almost gasped. As much as part of him wanted to be disgusted, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The same one he felt whenever the Decepticon visited him during those long summer nights. He found himself latching onto the blood-bond, like a frightened child clinging onto their parent. Megatron did not shove him off.

The militiamen led him through the barren streets of Pripyat. Jack tried to memorize the route, but they took so many turns that he lost count. While the teenager was completely lost, his captors seemed to know exactly where they were going. They were careful to avoid bright yellow signs that littered the city, the foreboding symbol of radioactivity glaring at them. A few times the agent in front pulled out a small device. When it beeped angrily at him, he would simply flick his wrist and the entire group would turn back around.

Jack didn't know how long they spent walking through the ghost town until finally they came to a towering metal fence. A _massive_ building lay beyond it, stretching across the campus and surrounded by broad silos and grand halls. It almost looked like a factory. No, a _power plant._

Rather than moving away, Jack noticed his captors were headed for the wide gate in front of the complex. He dug his heels into the ground.

"No, wait!"

"Move it," his captor snapped, even as he had no trouble pulling Jack along. The teenager still tried to protest.

"The radiation—"

They wanted to going the building that was the _source_ of the radiation?! Jack vaguely remembered they had immediately shut down Chernobyl after the accident and removed its radioactive waste, going so far to seal the faulty reactor with some sort of sarcophagus. But it was still _leaking_ , and no doubt covered in contamination. Maybe Silas really did want to kill him—

The lead agent merely glanced at his device. "It's fine."

That seemed to settle the discussion. The soldiers moved forward, and when Jack tried to resist, his captor rewarded him with a rough cuff to the back of his head. They half-ushered, half-dragged him further into the plant, walking past ruined buildings that once fueled an entire country.

The elements had weakened them enough that the roofs had caved in. One was missing an entire wall, exposing the interior like layers of a sliced cake. Debris hung from the ceiling, one piece of rafting swinging in the wind.

Wait, what—

The frigid air was completely still. How—

Jack did a double take, only to be greeted by a pair of beady, blood-red optics.

 _Ratbat_.

The little symbiote was hanging upside down from the rafters of a crumbling building, his metallic wings curled around him. The bat's dark armor blended perfectly into the shadows, making him nearly invisible at first glance. He looked like just another piece of debris. Then Ratbat ducked his helm behind his wings, hiding the crimson glow of his optics just as a MECH soldier glanced up. The man was none the wiser that he was staring at a Decepticon, not even in proper disguise.

Had it been another situation, Jack would have laughed at his captor's ignorance. Instead, his heart pounded even faster. If Ratbat was here, then that meant—

"I said _move it_!"

Jack wheezed as his captor gave him a rough push, sending him stumbling forward. Unable to hold his balance, he clumsily fell to his knees with a wheeze. The army brat gritted his teeth and tried to move back to his feet, only to stiffen as a familiar shadow fell over him. He tilted his gaze up, only to meet a remorseless, hard stare. The same one in Jack's horrible dreams.

Silas stood with his arms behind his back, flanked on either side by a squad of goons. A few trained their rifles on Jack, as if daring him to take one wrong move. The false, polite tone seemed to contrast Silas's frigid stance, "Ah, Jack. So good that you've come back to us. We've been waiting for you."

The army brat could not stop his shiver at the cruel, possessive tone. The darkness in his mind growled.

 ** _You are mine._**

"I'm here, Silas," Jack hissed, though he couldn't make himself look the bastard in the eye. "You got what you want."

Rather than a pleased purr, the ex-SEAL's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where are the Autobots?"

 ** _Lie._**

"Coming."

 ** _Lie_** **better** ** _._**

"You've been watching me—you know the Autobots have been keeping close taps on me. They can track my phone—which last time I checked, your buddy's keeping for me." The captive shot the thief a brief glare before turning his attention back to Silas. "Once they notice that I'm missing, they'll come for me."

Approval brushed against Jack's mind while Silas merely frowned. The teen wasn't so sure the man was convinced until Silas drawled, "It doesn't matter how they get here. I'll have my Transformer, one way or another."

Jack pulled his lips back in a snarl and he had to stop himself from spitting out a retort. Silas glanced at his captor.

"Uncuff him."

"Sir, you sure that's a good idea?"

The MECH leader glared, not appreciating being questioned. " _Do it_. If he tries anything, shoot him."

Jack felt the statement was directed towards him more than the soldier. He stood still like a good little prisoner as the man inserted the key into the chains. As the army brat eyed the group of terrorists, he realized something was wrong.

With their masks, it was impossible to read their expressions (Jack had better luck with Soundwave), but there was a tension in their stances. No one dared to stray their gaze from him. The militiamen stood out of arm's reach, fingers resting on the trigger of their guns.

Were they afraid of him? Did they know about Silas's insane project, and really thought the dark energon made him into some sort of supersoldier? Or had they learned the details of Marcus's brutal death? Jack didn't know to feel satisfaction or horror, that the people he feared thought _he_ was the monster.

He swallowed thickly and tried to sound brave as he demanded, "Where are my friends and my mother? What did you do with them?"

"They're fine," Silas assured, although his voice was curt. "In fact, you can see them yourself."

Jack almost jumped out of his skin as the MECH leader's arm wrapped around him, a strong hand clasping his shoulder. Preventing him from escaping.

Jack was escorted into the building to find it was in much better condition than the other decrepit interiors he had seen. The debris had been cleared and rubber mats covered the floor. The walls were in one piece and the ceiling was intact. The boy was all the more confused when the radiant light of the sun was replaced by the glare of fluorescent light.

"How do you have electricity here?" Jack wondered aloud.

He had not seen a single light bulb during his brief tour of the city. Many of the buildings were too ruined to be functional. Yet Chernobyl, the epicenter of the explosion, looked as operational as the day it closed.

Silas didn't even offer a glance as he explained shortly, "Back-up generators."

He said it as though it explained everything, even though it filled Jack with even more questions. Along with a terrible sense of dread. This was more than just a simple ambush or a clever trap, like in Paris. MECH had somehow managed to take control of an entire city. They were _prepared._ Was this another one of their operations? Or was this their _base_?

The army brat let himself be guided up a flight of stairs, hoping Silas couldn't feel his worsening trembling. Even after weeks of physical therapy, Jack decided this was the most he had walked ever since he was rescued from Airachnid, and it was beginning to take its toll. With each floor, it was getting harder to breathe and his legs felt like jelly. He yelped as he tripped over a step. He would have tumbled down the stairs if it wasn't for Silas's hold on him.

Jack's cheeks burned with humiliation, but the MECH leader must have pitied him and spared him from a mocking comment. They traveled through a maze of corridors, the walls closing in around Jack with each step. Unwanted memories kept flashing before his eyes, delusion mixing with reality. Where was Silas taking him? To his family? Or to be tortured?

Unconsciously he dug his heels into the floor, but his captor easily pushed him along. They traveled down a long corridor, finally coming to a threshold that didn't have a door—most likely knocked off its hinges long ago. Beyond the doorframe was wide room that was completely empty save for—

"Mom!"

"Jack!"

Not caring about the consequences, the teenager ripped free of Silas's and launched himself forward. June, Raf, and Miko took up the center of the room, on their knees and their arms behind their backs, put in a straight line facing the door. Jack's stomach knotted at the sight of the armed militiamen standing behind them like a firing squad.

He didn't let himself be intimidated, racing to the closest prisoner—his mother. He practically fell to his knees as he took her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "You weren't supposed to be a part of this."

Restrained, June couldn't hug him back. She could only bury her face in the crook of his neck, leaning her weight against his in an attempt to comfort him. Even as Jack could feel her trembling.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered rapidly. "It's okay."

Things were far from okay, but the son realized that as a mother it was the only thing she could say. Was she hurt? What did MECH do to her? Looking over at his friends, Jack found there was a bruise across Miko's face from when she was struck. She put on a brave facade, struggling against her bonds with a pout, but Jack could see the fear in her eyes. Raf's glasses were cracked and his cheeks red and wet from fresh tears. The elder moved to see if they were okay, to comfort them, only for a cruel grip to seize the back of his neck.

"That's enough, now."

Jack made a noise of protest when Silas yanked him to his feet and away from his loved ones. The teenager rounded on the madman, demanding, "Let them go, Silas!"

"Not until I get my Transformer."

"They'll be here. Just leave them out of this."

"You seem quite confident, considering how long it took them to find you in my custody."

Jack tried not to flinch at Silas's casual tone.

 _"_ _When Raf and Miko told what happened, we didn't stop looking for you."_

Yet when the Autobots finally found him, it was too late. The damage was already done. How could he convince Silas they would come for him? Jack wished he could lie as easily as Megatron.

"They learned their lesson," he told, trying to sound confident as he met Silas's cold gaze with a glare of his own.

"And what lesson would _that_ be?" the terrorist leader retorted. "It looks like they haven't learned anything. They abandoned your friends just like they abandoned _you_."

"You're lying!" Miko blurted. She moved forward, fighting against her restraints. "The 'Bots are—ah!"

The rebellious teenager was interrupted when one of the agents stepped forward, _slamming_ the butt of his rifle into her spine. Miko fell forward with a cry. Before she had the chance to catch her breath, the masked man grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back up.

Jack flinched, naturally wanting to run to her aid, but he stopped at the number of armed soldiers that surrounded them. He forced himself to look back to Silas, finishing Miko's sentence, "They're our family."

"'Family?'" scoffed the MECH leader. "They're _machines_."

"They're more human than you'll ever be."

Silas narrowed his eyes at that. "Well, then, if you already have a family, I guess you don't need this one."

Without warning, he pulled out the pistol from his belt and took aim towards Raf. Rather than flinch like Jack expected, the army brat watched every muscle in the young boy's freeze in terror until he was as rigid and pale as a statue. Jack swore he heard the faintest of whimpers but it was drowned out by the bound captives' gasps.

"No, wait!" Jack protested. "That's not what I meant!"

He launched himself forward, to either rip the gun out of Silas's grip or jump in front of Raf, he wasn't sure. Only when he tried, strong hands grabbed his arms and shoulders, pulling him back. Jack growled as he struggled against the two militiamen that held him in place.

Silas didn't even spare him a glance. His voice was icily calm as he interrogated, "Where are the Autobots?"

"I already told you! They're coming!"

That didn't seem to satisfy Silas. He took a long step forward, so that the towering man loomed over little Raf. The poor thing shivered only once the madman unclipped the safety of his gun.

"I ask again: Where. Are. The Autobots?"

In his panic, Jack wasn't able to stop the words coming out, "I don't know!"

He realized instantly it was a mistake, his blood turning cold when Silas turned his glare towards him. The MECH leader's growl was low and dangerous.

"Then you tried to screw me."

"You have me!" Jack protested. "You said if I came, you'll let them live!"

"And you tried to back out of our deal. So I'll just _terminate_ it."

Silas took another step until the cold barrel of his pistol pressed against Raf's forehead, the force of the touch tilting the boy's head back.

Finally Raf sobbed pitifully, "Jack!"

"No!" June cried.

"Leave him alone!" shouted Miko. She tried to move to Raf's aid, but her own captors kept her in place.

"Stop, _please_!" the army brat screamed.

He tried to force his way forward, but hold on him was cold and unrelenting. He felt his heart jump in his throat at the sight that lay before him—his loved ones captured because of him, in danger because of him. About to be _killed_. Because of _him_.

Jack reached across the blood-bond as far as he could, until his mind directly brushed up against another's. He screamed as loud as he could, both in body and mind.

" _Megatron_!"

Jack wasn't expecting the response to be so immediate. Suddenly the world _trembled,_ reverberating with a terrible _boom_. There were startled yelps and the terrorists stumbled as the ground shook and the walls around them rattled. Then the roof caved in.

The MECH soldiers scrambled, even Silas, each trying to save their own lives as a shower of debris fell on them. One of Jack's captors wasn't so lucky. Before he had the chance to flinch, a chunk of concrete struck his head. The teenager saw his neck bend at an unnatural angle before he crumbled in the ground and was half-buried in a pile of rubble. His hold still on Jack, the momentum dragged the boy along with him and out of the other's grip. Down on the ground, all Jack could do was cover his head with his hands as the world crumbled around him.

There were the horrible sounds of groaning metal, crunching concrete, and even shattering glass as the ceiling was peeled back. Lights flickered madly, until the fluorescent glow was replaced by an ominous red glare, one Jack was all too familiar with.

He dared to unfurl himself from his tight ball, glancing up to meet Megatron's bloodthirsty optics. The mighty titan towered over the little humans, the jagged edges of the ruined ceiling framing his massive silhouette. The menacing sight made several of the MECH soldiers yelp in fright.

"What the—?!"

"Shoot it!"

"Open fire!"

Silas heard that shout, jumping back to his feet from where he had fallen. "No! Hold—"

It was too late.

The room was filled with claps of thunder as the militiamen fired their assault rifles, unleashing a volley of bullets at the Decepticon. However, the majority of the projectiles could not pierce Megatron's thick armor, some of them even ricocheting back down in a hailstorm of lead. There was a couple startled shouts of those unlucky enough to get hit and Miko shrieked as a bullet grazed her leg.

Megatron looked furious more than anything, baring his fangs in a feral look. His bloodlust echoed over the blood-bond as he flexed his claws.

 ** _Cover your eyes_**.

Jack didn't have to be told twice. He repeated the order to his baffled and terrified loved ones and took a still-frozen Raf in his arms. He buried the younger teen's face in the crook of his neck and closed his eyes, just as Megatron's savage snarl reverberated through the air.

Suddenly there was clanking of swiftly moving metal. There was a high-pitched scream, only to be cut off with a wet, sticky noise. The MECH soldiers kept firing, but the gunfire couldn't drown the sound of another man's choked screams. As he became more panicked and hoarse, Jack could only assume the anarchist had been caught in Megatron's crushing grip. Sure enough, there was a sickening _crunch_ and the victim went silent.

Another shout and a heavy thud—telling the Decepticon leader had probably tossed the corpse into one of his own comrades. Jack decided his imagination was more vivid than actually witnessing the massacre around him, but he did not dare take the risk. He buried his face in Raf's shoulder, tightly holding the trembling boy against his chest.

By now MECH had realized their attack was fruitless. There was fearful yells for retreat and weapons clattered onto the floor. Silas was shouting angrily, but Jack couldn't make out what he was saying as the sounds of murder continued. The army brat didn't realize he was shaking until Megatron spoke to him.

"We need to leave. Now."

Without further ceremony, the warlord lowered his unstained servo and reached out with a claw. June let out a horrified yelp as she noticed it was nearing _her_ , squirming to get out of the way. However, on her knees and her hands bound behind her, her balance was too poor to get any kind of leverage. The tip of the talon scraped along her back, dragging down until it sliced at her bonds. Mom gasped, staring at her freed hands with shock and disbelief.

Megatron moved on to Miko. He had a harder time with her, as the girl kept wiggling away from his touch, only so she could have a clearer view of him.

"So King 'Con is on our side now?!"

"No," Jack and Megatron answered simultaneously.

The warlord practically had to hold the rambunctious teenager down with his whole servo in order to sever her restraints. Raf was still frigid in Jack's hold, so he was the easiest to free. The youngest only let out a small yip at the cold touch of Megatron's claw.

The Decepticon then offered his open palm before the hostages, his silent order clear. Still, Jack repeated it out loud, gently pushing Raf forward.

"Get on!"

Despite the urgency in his voice, Raf stiffened once he noticed where the army brat was leading him. His voice was small and confused.

"Wait, what?"

"You want us to go with him?!" June gasped.

" _Sweet_!" cheered Miko.

The girl almost impaled herself as she practically leapt onto Megatron's claws. She had no trouble settling in het metal seat, her small body looking like a miniature doll in the titan's servo. There was enough room for them all, at least long enough until Megatron could get them more secured. Although June and Raf didn't share Miko's excitement.

"I'm _not_ going with that monster!" Mom protested.

"He's trying to save our lives!" Jack argued.

The teenager didn't know for how much longer Megatron's generosity would last, judging by the impatience trickling over the blood-bond. Suddenly there was the muffled, distant roar of an engine, but noisy enough that the warlord glanced around. Only when he did, his optics flared in surprise.

Then pain exploded from Jack's side. His shout was drowned out by Megatron's ferocious bellow, so loud that the humans had to cover their fragile ears. Yet Jack could only slap his ribs and fall forward. But there was no wound.

Miko let out a wail as she toppled out of Megatron's grip, his servo suddenly ripping into the air. His frame was dragged out of sight with a deafening clash of metal on metal, which sounded like two trucks wrecking into each other. Jack could only stare in horror, the tyrant's sudden pain filling the bond. What had happened?!

"Megatron?!"

* * *

Why were humans so incompetent?!

Megatron watched impatiently as Jack bickered with his little friends, trying to convince them to take value in their own lives. Ironically, it was the loud one, Miko, that appeared to have the most sense, complying almost immediately. The little one, Rafael, was frozen with fear and Jack's carrier—June, was it?—glared at him disdainfully.

The Decepticon leader supposed he couldn't blame their skepticism, considering the feeling was completely mutual. He wanted nothing more than to snatch Jack up with his servo and take him back to the _Nemesis,_ where he would _never_ leave Megatron's sight again. But he restrained himself.

He sensed something across the blood-bond. It was faint, like Jack was trying to hide it from him, but Megatron felt it all the same. A sense of doubt. A seed of mistrust. It was only because of the boy's desperation he was not allowing it to grow.

Why? Did the human already forget everything the warlord had done for him?

 _It was Airachnid. She poisoned him against me._

Megatron found himself loathing Arcee even more, for snuffing the treacherous spider when she was his to squash. His bloodthirsty thoughts were interrupted by the roar of an engine. It sounded human. The tyrant groaned. MECH must had called for reinforcements.

He turned to the sound, raising to fusion cannon to blast the nuisance away. Only when he did, he was greeted with a semi-truck. It was barreling towards him at full speed, its headlights on full brightness as if in attempt to blind him. Yet Megatron recognized the model almost instantly, one he was all too familiar with.

 _What is he—_

Megatron never had the chance to even finish his thought. With no hesitation, the semi-truck rammed into him. The Decepticon's bellow almost drowned out the deafening _clash_ of metal on metal as his legs were taken out from underneath him. The top of the truck slammed into his side with enough force it left a sizeable dent and pain erupted from the sight. Megatron was only faintly aware he had lost his grip on Miko, the momentum of the attack knocking him down and away from the humans. He skidded across the ground in a shower of sparks and debris.

When the titan finally came to an uncomfortable halt, he moaned in disorientation. He heard the distant sound of transformation, but something was wrong. It wasn't the same sound of shifting gears and plates. Instead there was a loud hum accompanied by groans of metal. And it was so _slow._

Normally a transformation took a few kliks _at most_ , while the most experienced warriors could change forms almost instantly. Instead, the shifting of metal seemed to last for several moments, long enough for a disoriented Megatron to climb to his pedes. Only when he did, his optics widened in shock and disbelief at the figure that greeted him.

"Optimus...?"

But something was _wrong_.

Instead of polished plating and bright, regal colors, the Autobot leader's armor was made of rugged, dull gray metal. There were ugly welds across the frame and wires and gears exposed to the air, where there _shouldn't_ be wires and gears. Ice-blue optics were replaced by a bright, pale yellow gaze that looked like the humans' artificial lights.

Megatron realized it almost immediately.

This _thing_ wasn't Optimus Prime. And yet it was a perfect copy.

"What in the name of Primus—"

Once again he was interrupted at the false Cybertronian lunged forward, closing the distance between them at an impossible speed. Before Megatron had the chance to defend himself, the Prime—the _thing_ landed a solid punch to his helm. He grunted as he was sent reeling back, only for his attacker to chase after him. A volley of punches assaulted him, leaving cracks and dented armor all along his frame.

Definitely not Prime.

Whenever Optimus fought, there would be the briefest of hesitance before each attack. A stagnant pause just long enough for Megatron to fight back. The _thing_ did not allow it. Its strikes were fast and brutal, sending one right after another. It did not tire, it did not vent, it did not _think_. There was no sentience behind its movements, just rapid, relentless, _robotic_ attacks.

It was then Megatron realized what the _thing_ was. Oh, how he wished he could see Optimus's look of shock and disgust when he found out that MECH modeled their ultimate weapon after him. Then the Decepticon leader had another thought.

With a vicious snarl, he dug his heels into the ground. He braced, just as the abomination raised its fist yet again. Only to be caught by Megatron's clawed servo. Prime would never be so clumsy. A wide, cruel smile spread across his faceplates.

"I wonder…" he mused, almost nonchalantly. "If destroying you give me the same sense of gratification as destroying Optimus Prime?"


	30. Nemesis

**First of all thank you for all of the supportive reviews and condolences from the last chapter, it really means a lot to me. I know a lot of you are going through a hard time right now and could use the escape, so I'm going to try my best to keep posting content for you guys. I hope you enjoy what I have in store.** **I usually try to have one plot twist per chapter. This one has two. Three, if you squint.**

* * *

Jack could only stare at the gaping hole in the ceiling that Megatron had occupied just moments before. In a blink of an eye, he had disappeared. He was just _gone._ Panic seized the boy's heart when he heard horrible crashes and thunder-like booms of a fight between giants. But that wasn't right. Megatron was the only one—

The thought vanished when suddenly pain erupted all across his body. Jack let out a cry as he fell to his knees, arms wrapping around his torso. He was only faintly aware of his loved ones' startled yelps.

"Jack?!"

"Honey?"

"What's wrong?"

Jack could only grit his teeth as waves of agony cascaded over the blood-bond, each one in tandem with the deafening sounds outside.

"Something… something is hurting Megatron," the poor boy wheezed.

"I call it 'Nemesis Prime.'" Through squinted eyes, Jack glanced up to be greeted with Silas's sadistic sneer. He stood alone—all of his subordinates had fled in fear or had been killed. The MECH leader hardly seemed to care. His dark eyes gleamed with gleeful triumph. "A Transformer of my own making, designed after Optimus Prime."

Jack pulled his lips back in a furious snarl while his friends only gave baffled stares.

"What?" Raf squeaked.

"No, that's impossible," June denied.

"Yeah, there's no way!" Miko agreed. "We blew up their robot Frankenstein!"

"I wouldn't have made it this far if I didn't know how to prepare a contingency plan," Silas retorted smugly.

It was then Jack realized. "They built another one…"

For the first time in weeks, the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. Jack had convinced himself that MECH was after him in Paris, and Silas even had played along. But he was all wrong. They had every intention to use Bumblebee's T-cog, and they only hoped Jack would follow it.

The machine—the abomination—they were building was just a prototype. A test model. Somehow… somehow they got what they wanted, and MECH managed to create their own Transformer. A Transformer to use against the Autobots.

This was all a trap. And Jack had fallen for it.

"Indeed," Silas purred, as if he could read the boy's thoughts. "My very own Transformer. The first of an army, birthed by the ingenious of MECH. Although now, I see that may be unnecessary. I must say, you're full of surprises, Jack Darby. When I took you into my care, I took account of any retribution from the Autobots. I never considered that _Megatron_ , the so-called 'Lord of the Decepticons,' would come for you. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but then I remembered our conversation. Surely you still recall?"

"Jack, what is he talking about?" June whispered.

The teen didn't reply, only narrowing his eyes. He remembered. When Silas angrily threatened to put him on life support because he refused to eat. He had no choice but to confess the nature of the dark energon, and how he received it in the first place.

Silas went on, "So then I figured he wanted you for himself. But now?" Silas's gaze was then filled with something else, something even more twisted. _Fascination._ "Now I realize you can _control_ him. I won't have to build my army. _You_ can give me one."

If he wasn't riddled with pain, Jack would have laughed at the madman's lunacy. Instead, he could only growl, "No one commands Lord Megatron."

"We shall see."

It was then the pistol reappeared in Silas's hand, aimed at Jack's head. Before the boy could even flinch, Mom's hold protectively wrapped around him, pushing him back as she settled between him and the gun. While she had been trembling with terror only moments ago, seeing her son in immediate danger must have ignited her maternal instincts. Now she glared at the monster that loomed over them. Silas only cackled.

" _After_ I kill your mother here." The terrorist's cold gaze met Jack's. "And then you will know what it's like to lose _everything_."

Over the distant sounds of chaos, Megatron let a furious roar, one that seemed to resonate with Jack's own fear and anger. He had already lost enough people. He wasn't going to let Silas take away any more!

Shoving down the pain, the army brat lunged, just as the ex-SEAL finger pressed down on the pistol's trigger. There was a sharp clap of thunder, followed by a pained scream.

But it wasn't June's.

Silas's gun clattered to the floor, the man seething as he held his bloodied hand. He recoiled away from his prisoners, even though Jack didn't do anything to him. The teen could only stare, bewildered, until a familiar drawl drifted through the air.

"And here I thought I was late to the party."

Jack nearly gasped. There was no way! Yet when he turned, the figure that stood there seemed to defy all logic.

"F-Fowler?"

The lias—no, _former_ government liaison—stood in the doorway, dressed in the same blue suit as always. His arms were stretched out before him, both of his hands wrapped around the handle of a pistol, smoke rising from the barrel. Despite his sarcastic comment, Fowler's expression was as dark and solemn as a soldier walking into the battlefield. He was once a Ranger, after all.

Even so, Jack couldn't pry his wide eyes from the from sight, his mind trying to register what was before him.

" _What_ —what are you doing here?" the confused boy stammered.

"I thought you were supposed to be in jail?" Miko piped, not failing to speak what was on everyone's minds.

Fowler replied with a crooked smile. "Oh, yeah, about that. Sorry to make you worry. The CIA needed a couple favors."

"But they arrested you?" Raf recalled.

"The CIA doesn't make arrests."

Jack's confusion only grew. He clearly remembered Galloway's furious scowl when he ordered Fowler's arrest and the misery in the man's eyes as he was dragged away. All because of Jack. Fowler had tapped into the Pentagon and used their satellites to track MECH where they were holding him. The liaison sent NEST forces to a base hidden in the wilderness of Texas, not knowing he was interfering with a CIA operation. So why—

Realization hit Jack so suddenly it was like a slap to the face. It was something his father had told him. They were watching a spy movie, in which a CIA task force raided a farm and arrested the resident family, accusing them of harboring terrorists. Dad had scoffed, saying such a thing was impossible.

Because the CIA could not operate on American soil.

Had it all been a ruse, then? Did Lennox and Simmons know? Was Galloway in on it? But the security advisory was hardly an actor. His fury had been real. So what was it, then? A twisted demotion? Or an exchange? Galloway became the liaison with Autobots while Fowler was sent to track down MECH?

A thousand questions raced through Jack's mind, too many to ask given the certain situation. He doubted he would ever have the chance. Fowler sent a grin at Silas, unfazed by the terrorist's murderous glare.

"Thought you were being clever sneaking out of the country, huh?" the agent mocked. "Not a bad idea, until the boys at the CIA asked for my expertise. You know, being a former Army Ranger and the one that personally kicked your ass and all. We've been tracking you for months."

"Not in Albania," Silas interjected.

"No, you slipped away from us there." It was then Fowler's turned back to Jack, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry for what they did to you, Jack. If I had known about it, I would have shot every bastard there and dragged you out myself."

The teenager blinked, astonished at the man's solemn determination. He knew so little about Fowler, yet the government agent (or was it CIA agent now?) was willing to fight an entire paramilitary base to save him. Now he was here…

Fowler shifted his glare back to Silas. "Reinforcements should be here soon. Once they get here, we're going to pull the plug on the whole operation you got here. The game's over, Sy."

"It has only just begun!" the MECH leader retorted in a ferocious bellow. "This was merely to test Nemesis Prime's capabilities. Once it destroys you all, every American base in the world will be a target of our newfound might! Then _all_ will _fear_ us!"

"Blah, blah, blah," Fowler drawled, rolling his eyes. "You really like to go on, don't you?"

Silas's look was violent. Jack feared the deranged man would actually pounce on Fowler, but he never had the chance.

Suddenly a groan of metal echoed through the air, followed by an almighty _crash_. The occupants of the room let out startled cries as the entire building shook, reminiscent of what happened before. Loose debris hanging from the caved-in ceiling fell to the ground, one chunk just barely missing Raf's head. Through the earthquake-like tremor, Jack could feel sadistic satisfaction rolling across the blood-bond. It didn't take long to put two and two together. Megatron must have tossed his opponent—Nemesis Prime—into the building. The building occupied with _humans_.

Jack projected his annoyance over the link. _Can you try_ not _to kill us?_

He should have known better than to interrupt the former Champion in the middle of a fight. He was responded with a mental slap, sending his thoughts reeling. The teenager collapsed to the ground with a groan, his mind spinning from the rude assault. He had to wait until the world stopped shaking until he dared to lift his head. Only when he did, his eyes locked onto a familiar object.

It was Silas's discarded pistol. It lay on the ground, only a matter of feet from Jack. The boy remembered the last time such an opportunity was before him.

It was when Lennox had come to save him. The NEST commander was trying to wrestle Silas to the ground, but the ex-SEAL was stronger. When he was about to kill Lennox, Jack took his stolen gun and threatened the MECH leader's life. But he couldn't do it. He had fired, but Jack couldn't even remember where he was aiming. He was sure he didn't have the intent to kill. He had let Silas live.

And all it had done was cause him pain.

Megatron had even scolded his hesitance when he had refused to kill another human being. If he had killed Silas then, he would have never been kidnapped. He would have never been used in an experiment or beaten to a bloody pulp. He would have never been _tortured._ And none of them would be here. His loved ones would be safe at home and Megatron wouldn't have gotten hurt.

And now they were all going to die.

 _This is all my fault_.

The cold realization chilled Jack to his core. He had to fix this. No one else had to face the consequences of his mistake. A mistake that he did not intend to make again.

Steeling his nerves, Jack lunged forward, hands outstretched towards the gun. Only for another to reach it first.

Silas swiped up the gun, taking it out of Jack's reach. The hand that Fowler had shot was cloaked in crimson blood, so the ex-SEAL was forced to hold the weapon with a single hand. Rather than be deterred at the loss of stability, Silas raised his pistol, aiming it at Fowler.

" _No_!"

Jack didn't even register jumping to his feet, but he was aware when he rammed his whole weight into Silas. The larger man grunted with a wince at the unexpected assault, but he managed to stand his ground.

"Jack, no!" Fowler shouted, but the teenager hardly heard him, locked in his struggle.

Jack wrapped both his hands around the barrel of the gun, trying to both force it down and out of Silas's grip. Despite he only had one good hand, the ex-SEAL's hold was unrelenting. Then he curled his still bleeding hand into a fist and slammed it Jack's temple. Stars flashed across his vision and his grip loosened. Then there was a cold touch on his forehead.

It was then Jack felt something stir within him. An ancient, base instinct that had endured thousands of years of evolution, yet only had one distinct order: _survive_.

Jack's body moved without him realizing it. With an animalistic snarl, he grabbed the barrel of the weapon with both palms. Summoning all the strength he could muster, he forced the gun upwards, all the while trying to lean out of its line of sight. The boy didn't know what happened next. He was only aware of grappling for the weapon, trying to yank it away from Silas as the man tried to keep his grasp. Then suddenly it sounded like a bomb went off beside Jack's ear.

He yelped at the deafening _bang_ that assaulted his eardrum, only to be replaced by a high-pitched ring that echoed in his head. The army brat couldn't help but move away, clapping his hand over his damaged ear. There was no blood, at least, but it didn't take long for Jack to realize what had happened—that pistol must have gone off in the struggle.

Before he had the chance to recover his senses, something _hard_ slammed into his gut. He wheezed as he doubled over, all the air ripped out of his lungs. Then a solid fist collided into his back, sending pain radiating all the way up and down his spine. Jack let out a pathetic noise as he fell to the ground—without the pistol.

"Hi-YAH!"

The teenager raised his head just to see Miko send a flying kick into Silas's side. Being three times her size, the ex-SEAL didn't even budge from her assault and the poor girl ricocheted off of him with an audible "oof." Before Miko could even fall to the floor, Silas snatched her arm and cruelly dragged her back to her feet.

"Let her go, Silas!" Fowler bellowed.

The man had regained his footing, cautiously stepping forward with his gun trained on the MECH leader. But with a young hostage between them, Jack knew he wouldn't dare fire. Especially since Miko was like a squirming cat in Silas's grip, clawing and hissing at her captor as she flailed in attempt to get away. Jack was amazed the man managed to keep his hold on her.

Silas must have decided that Miko wasn't a very good hostage, as he twisted his grip on the girl and practically _flung_ her at Fowler. The government agent just lowered his gun in time just to raise an arm to catch her and stop her from crumbling to the floor.

Silas didn't hesitate to take advantage of the distraction. The MECH leader spun on his heels and lunged away—towards an adjacent hallway.

"Stop!" Jack protested, trying to jump to his feet, trying to stop the madman from escaping. But he was too late.

Silas vanished out of the room in a blur of movement. Just like that, he was gone.

Jack cursed. Coward! The teenager moved forward to give chase, only to be stopped by a solid hand on his shoulder. He instinctively flinched away and rounded on his assaulter, only to see Fowler. Seeing the boy's feral look, the man wisely stepped out of his personal space, but Jack hardly noticed.

"We need to stop him!"

"We _need_ to get you and the others out of here," Fowler retorted. "This whole place is going to turn into a warzone in a matter of minutes!"

"I'm not letting him get away! Not after everything he's done to me!"

"You want to even the score, I get it. I know he hurt you-"

"No, you _don't_ know."

Whatever fear that was paralyzing Jack before was gone. Hot fury raced through his veins. A red haze covered his vision. He was _done_ being afraid. Being afraid didn't stop his captors from tormenting him. It didn't save his friends, his family. It only hurt the people he loved.

He had to stop Silas. And he had to do it himself.

"J… J-Jack…?"

The army brat froze at the meek, quivering squeak. It was a voice that he recognized instantly, yet it sounded _nothing_ like his mother. Jack turned around, meeting wide, watery blue eyes. June's skin was unnaturally pale, her body hunched over and her arms around her middle. Slowly, cautiously, she lifted her shaking hands, covered in blood.

Seeping from the gunshot wound in her stomach.

Jack stared for several long seconds, his mind unable to process the sight before him. Then something clicked, and he found it hard to breathe.

"M-Mom?"

It was the only word his mouth was capable of producing. June opened her mouth as if to reply, but no sound came out. Instead there was only a silent gasp as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her knees buckled and she crumbled to the ground.

" _Mom_!"

Everyone rushed towards her at once, but it was Jack that reached her first. His arm caught her by the shoulders just before her head slammed onto the hard floor. He wasn't even aware of his hand falling to the wound, unconsciously trying to stop the bleeding. It felt sticky and wet.

Instantly frozen shock melted into sheer panic. What he had done?! It was the bullet. It was meant for him, but Jack had shoved the gun away and it hit June instead.

"Nononono!" the boy stammered rapidly.

He pulled his hoodie off over his head, leaving him in only a t-shirt. He ignored how the chilly air bit at his skin as he balled up the hoodie before pressing it against the gaping hole in her stomach. Jack pressed down, only for Mom to wince with a small whine. Her eyes fluttered open, but her breathing was labored. She murmured his name again, as if she was trying to see if he was still there.

"I'm here," Jack assured, even though his attention was on the pool of blood staining her sweater. "You'll be okay… you'll be okay…"

He said the words like a mantra, even as his mind raced back and forth, trying to remember the little medical knowledge that he knew. He knew how to make a tourniquet for an arm or a leg, but what did he do for a gunshot to the abdomen?! Bleeding out from the stomach was long and painful, but the abdominal cavity contained a mass of arteries that delivered blood to all the vital organs that lay within it. How deep was the bullet buried? How many veins had been severed?

It had to be a lot, judging from the amount of blood that had accumulated in a matter of seconds. Jack's hands were already drenched in the sticky substance and it was starting to seep through his hoodie. He only pressed down harder, his arms quivering with exertion. June's gasps had turned to faint wheezing.

"No, no!" Jack protested. He was even aware of his voice cracking as he continued rambling, "Please… please, don't leave me!"

He didn't even realize he was leaning with nearly all his weight, until a soft, bloody hand touched his. It almost made him jump out of his skin, looking up at his mother. Her skin was a ghostly pale, yet she managed to curl her lips in one of her warm, motherly smiles. The one that told him she would always be there for him.

Mom's voice was pathetically weak, murmuring in a croak, "I love you…"

Jack had heard those words almost every day of his life, yet he couldn't formulate a response. He could only watch as his mother's eyes slid closed. June let out a sigh, her head falling limp against the floor.

"M-Mom? Mom!"

Abandoning his duty, Jack's hands flew to frame her face, ignoring the blood smearing across her cheek. He wanted to shake her awake, like all those times before, whether it was because he had drills that morning or he was late to school or he was just bored and lonely. Yet when his fingers fell to her neck, right where her pulse _should_ be, it was still. There was no rhythmic movement. No heartbeat.

There was _nothing_.

For the first time in Jack's life, his mind became completely empty. There were no thoughts, there were no emotions. His surroundings were a muted buzz. He only became aware of a strange, distant sound.

It wasn't human. It was an animalistic, grating roar. It almost sounded like a Cybertronian's, but it did not possess the same weight as a gargantuan metal being. It was then Jack realized it was coming from himself. _He_ was making that sound.

And then suddenly Jack's world was filled with a long, ragged scream.

* * *

Megatron _roared_ , curling his claws into a fist and sending it into the _thing_ 's helm. Like he suspected, its armor was weaker than a true Cybertronian's. The plating dented underneath the blow with an audible _crunch_. While such an injury would have sent a mech to the ground with serious damage to the processor, the _thing_ hardly flinched. It robotically straightened back up, staring blankly at Megatron, as if the Decepticon didn't have a crushing grip on its arm.

When any other warrior would have reeled back in shock and horror, Megatron only snarled in frustration. He sent two more punches into the _thing_ 's frame—one on its flank and another to its midsection—the same locations to where the fuel pump and fuel tank would be. He followed it up to a kick to the chest—right in the spark chamber—and sent the abomination flying, effectively retaliating what it had done to him.

The _thing_ was clumsy, skidding across the ground helm over heels like a human ragdoll. Megatron let out a dark chuckle, though he wished it was the _real_ Optimus Prime instead. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as he had hoped, but he did have a sense of cruel amusement beating the copy into scrap metal.

He doubted this would be a long fight. Once Megatron destroyed the _thing,_ he could return to Jack and finally finish that wretched human, Silas. He didn't know what happened when he was torn away from the humans, but he trusted Jack could handle himself. If he was anything, the boy was resilient.

Megatron was brought out of his musings by a groan of metal. He blinked as the copy began untangling its twisted limbs and slowly rose back to its pedes like a Terrorcon rising from the dead. Its armor was cracked and dented from the former Champion's assault, bright blue energon leaking from its wounds.

Not just that. _Oil_ bleed from the robot, running down its frame and staining the ground below it. Megatron could smell the fumes despite the distance between them and he curled his lips in disgust. Meanwhile, the _thing_ hardly seemed hindered by its injuries, already settling back into a battle stance.

"Still got some fight in you, hmm? Very well," Megatron rumbled. He unsheathed his blade, the cold silver glinting in the sunlight. "Come, then!"

As if Optimus's copy needed any invitation. Without warning, its arms _transformed_ into twin double-barreled cannons, almost identical to the Prime's. Yellowish energon sailed through the air. It was a color that Megatorn had never seen before. Likely an engineering failure on the humans' part. But he responded to the assault all the same, expertly deflecting the bolts with his sword.

The _thing_ charged towards him, clearing the distance between them in a matter of moments. Megatron instinctively slashed at it, but the contraption managed to dodge his attack. It sent a punch towards the warmonger's helm, but Megatron would not fall for the same trick twice.

He easily snatched its arm with both servos. With a yell, the ex-gladiator twisted, dragging his prisoner along with him. He threw his opponent away—right into the massive power plant beside him.

The concrete walls crumbled underneath the _thing_ 's weight and momentum, sending a cloud of dust into the air and the very earth trembled. Megatron's smug triumph was snuffed when almost immediately Jack's annoyance and anxiety flared over the bond.

Oh, right. The warlord was so caught up in the battle he had almost forgotten there were humans around. Such fragile creatures. Now he had to be _careful_ , too? Who was Jack to give _him_ orders? Megatron swatted the boy's pestering thoughts away, returning his focus to his opponent.

Just like before, the _thing_ sluggishly lifted itself back to its pedes, using the structure around it as a support. The Decepticon could just make out its silhouette through the smoke, its iridescent optics glowing ominously. The _thing_ was now cloaked in a fine layer of dust, debris falling off its frame as it stepped out of the shell of the ruined building.

How was it still _standing_? Megatron eyed the numerous injuries across the _thing_ 's frame, all vital points. It should be half-dead by now, or at the very least, paralyzed with pain. Did it even _have_ a neural net? Could it even _feel_ pain?

It certainly made sense if it didn't, considering how the abomination hardly winced at his attacks and how it continued on as if nothing happened. It only further confirmed Megatron's theory. The _thing_ was made to look like a Cybertronian, when in reality it was anything but. The humans had even incorporated carbon-based fuel into its system to ensure its function. Then why did it contain energon?

MECH surely had to know how dangerous the substance was to humans. They had to have a good reason for using it. The _thing_ was even capable of transformation. It wasn't very good, but it could do it. A feat that was _only_ possible with a T-cog.

It was how this whole mess started, when MECH ambushed Bumblebee and stole his T-cog. Was that it? No… Bumblebee was doing quite well the last time the Decepticon leader saw him. Then whose was it?

Then Megatron remembered. After Jack's kidnapping, Laserbeak was sent to patrol the area surrounding MECH's abandoned base, trying to find a clue where they went. Instead, he found a week, bleeding Starscream. Incapable of transformation, incapable of flight. _Robbed_ of his T-cog.

Megatron decided it was a fitting punishment for the Seeker. He had betrayed his master and defiled the Decepticon cause, only to go on and aid humans in desecrating his own kind. Jack would say something about "karma."

Though in the end, it didn't matter how this _thing_ came to be. Megatron would cut it down all the same. He raised his sword to cleave the wretched monstrosity in two, but he never had the chance. Without warning, it was like an explosion went off in Megatron's mind.

The warmonger gasped as his claws flew to his helm, as if that would lessen the assault any less. Lines of coding were sliced into pieces and sent whirling through his processor, effectively shattering his thoughts and even corrupting sensitive files. It wasn't malware, Megatron realized. No, it was raw, unfiltered emotion, erupting from the blood-bond.

 _Jack? What is wrong?_

Megatron reached over blood-bond, only for his inquiry to be blown away by the hurricane that was the human's mind. It was like when Jack had been tortured by MECH, but it was more _intense_ , as if all ten days of his captivity were compressed into a single moment. It was almost impossible to decipher the maelstrom of organic instincts, but the Cybertronian could make out sorrow, rage, grief, guilt, hate…

The emotions were so foreign, yet eerily familiar. There was only one time in Megatron's life where he experienced such emotions.

The day Orion Pax was taken from him.

They were meant to rule Cybertron, together. Abolish its cruel, corrupted caste system and replace with their own, one in which all were equal and treated fairly. A world in which all were one!

That was until Zeta Prime _stole_ Orion. The False Prime whispered lies into his audio, poisoning him, turning him against Megatronus. He had told Orion that the Kaonian plotted to steal the Matrix of Leadership, and would kill the Iaconian once he did. As if Megatronus would ever hurt Orion! But before the Decepticon leader could save him, Zeta Prime dug his horrid claws into his best friend. Reprogrammed his mind with the promises that Orion would be his heir, that he would be the next Prime. It was those very claims that drove Orion to take the Matrix of Leadership for himself!

Then… then Orion was gone! _Gone_!

There was only that horrible demon, that had taken the kind mech's husk to use as his own. Optimus Prime.

No… not again! Megatron would not lose another! He would not lose Jack!

The Lord of the Decepticons opened his jaws, releasing an earth-shattering roar that reverberated the frigid air all around him.

* * *

It couldn't. It couldn't be. It _couldn't_.

The words kept repeating in Jack's mind like a mantra, even as his mother's motionless body lay in his arms. He was _freezing_ , a chill crawling along his skin and his body refused to stop shaking. Maybe that was why he clung to June even tighter, trying to find his mother's warmth. She only slumped against him. Blood continued to pool from her abdomen, saturating the hoodie and staining the boy's hands, arms, and T-shirt. Jack didn't even register the mess, his thoughts raging like a tempest.

Why? Whywhywhy _why_?

Why did this happen to him? To _her_? What did they do to deserve this?

This was all his _fault_. Jack should have never involved her in this war. _He_ should never gotten involved. Or if he killed Megatron, or killed Silas, none of this would be happening.

Mom would still be alive.

Did the madman even know what he had done? Wasn't it enough he had taken Jack, but he had to take his mother too? Just like the Decepticons that took his father.

It was fair. It wasn't _fair._

Why did everyone he loved leave him? Why did they have to die?!

It was Silas. This was all his fault. He started all of this. He _stole_ his mother! He had killed her and he had run away!

The coward! Bastard! Thief! _Murderer_!

Jack would make him pay! He would tear Silas apart just like he did to him!

His grip on June tightened even more as the deadly thoughts began to filter through his mind. His veins became _hot,_ burning with fury. There was a noise beside him, but he couldn't decipher its meaning. He glanced up, only to see a foreign hand enter his field of vision, laying across his mother's shoulder.

 _His_ mother.

"Stay away from her!" he shrieked.

In a violet haze, Jack swiped his claws at the would-be thief with a vicious snarl. He hit nothing but air, but there was a startled yelp and the stranger reeled back. There were two others, a girl and a boy, both foreign to the teen.

Jack growled.

"Jack?! What's wrong with you?" the black-haired girl gasped. She took a step towards him and Jack bristled.

"No! Stay away from him!" It was the man that tried to assault him that spoke. He snatched the girl by her shoulder and yanked her back. "That's not Jack!"

She merely looked at the man as if he has grown a second head. "Are you crazy? Of course it's—"

"It's the dark energon," the little boy suddenly spoke up. His brown eyes were wide and his skin was pale in fright. "Like what happened before. Miko, look at his eyes."

The girl only squinted in confusion, but when she turned to Jack and met his dark gaze, she let out a quivering gasp.

Why was she acting so afraid? All of them were. Was it a trick? Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion as they continued squabble among themselves.

"Preceptor explained it once," the man explained quickly. "The dark energon suppresses his frontal lobe—or some science doohickey like that."

The girl only blinked dumbly. "What's that?"

"The part of your brain that regulates your lesser base functions," the boy lectured. "It's where your thoughts and personality come from. It's what makes you _you_."

"That's not Jack," the man clarified. "Something else is controlling him."

Controlling him? No one commanded him!

"Then what do we do?" cried the girl. "We need to help June!"

 _Help_? Why would they help? They were lying! Trying to fool him! They were going to steal what was his!

Jack let out a hiss-like spat and the young duo recoiled. Even the man flinched slightly.

"Shit, he's bad off," he cursed.

The stranger swallowed thickly and for a moment it seemed he would cower away with the others. Then his eyes filled with resolve. He took a slow, hesitant step forward, like he was approaching a terrified, cornered animal. Jack just as well growled like one.

"Jack, listen to me," the man spoke in a soft, careful tone. "You need to calm down. "Come on, I know you're still in there. You got to hear me." He took another step. Jack let out another snarl. "You care about your friends. And they're worried for you, Jack. So am I. Just let us help."

With that, the stranger extended his hand, as if offering his assistance. Jack didn't even glance at it. He was pressing his mother against his chest, keeping a strong, possessive hold, as he glared at the bastard looming over him. Yet he kept a neutral expression, not responding to the teen's aggression at all. He was mocking him! As if to prove Jack's theory, the man stepped even closer. _Too close_.

Jack pounced.

With a roar, the teen threw a punch into the bastard's skull. He let out a choke cry as he was sent sailing across the room and crashed into a nearby wall. The plaster caved under his momentum, sending a shower of dust falling on top of him. The man could only let out a groan of protest. The girl and the boy yelled at the event, eyes going impossibly wide and jaws dropping.

But Jack didn't care about them.

They had nothing to do with this. Nor did the man. He wanted to steal from Jack, but someone else was responsible for all this. The one who hurt him. The one that mocked him. The one who took away what was his.

Silas.

All of this was Silas's fault.

And Jack was going to _kill_ him.

It was then there was a shift within him. It was like before, but it was deeper, older, _darker._ It unfurled from the recesses of his mind, like a bear flexing its claws after a long hibernation. It whispered to him, murmuring a command that reverberated across Jack's body and consumed his entire being.

 ** _DESTROY…_**


End file.
